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■ * '- .WA a a* * 





THE BEST MAN 

BY 

GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL 

AUTHOR OF 

VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, Etc. 


FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR BY 
GAYLE HOSKINS 



GROSSET & DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 


Made in the United States of America 




COPYRIGHT. 1913. BY 3 . B. LIPPINCOTT COMPAFY 
OOPYR1QHT, 1914, BY 3 . B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

> 

3 0 *2 4 2 £ 


*» v 



PUBLISHED JANUARY, SQIq 


The Best Man 


SIXTH EDITION 



THE BEST MAN 


CHAPTER I 

Cyril Gordon had been seated at his desk but 
ten minutes and was deep in the morning’s mail 
when there came an urgent message from his chief, 
summoning him to an immediate audience in the 
inner office. 

The chief had keen blue eyes and shaggy eye- 
brows. He never wasted words; yet those words 
when spoken had more weight than those of most 
other men in Washington. 

There was the briefest of good-morning gleams 
in his nod and glance, but he only said : 

“ Gordon, can you take the Pennsylvania train 
for New York that leaves the station in thirty- two 
minutes ? ” 

The young man was used to abrupt questions 
from his chief, but he caught his breath, mentally 
surveying his day as it had been planned: 

“ Why, sir, I suppose I could — if it is neces- 
sary ” He hesitated. 

“ It is necessary,” said the chief curtly, as if that 
settled the matter. 


7 


8 


THE BEST MAN 


“ But — half an hour ! ” ejaculated Gordon in dis- 
may. “ I could hardly get to my rooms and back 

to the station. I don’t see how Isn’t there a 

train a little later? ” 

“ Later train won’t do. Call up your man on 
the ’phone. Tell him to pack your bag and meet 
you at the station in twenty minutes. You’ll need 
evening clothes. Can you depend on your man to 
get your things quickly without fail? ” 

There was that in the tone of the chief that 
caused Gordon to make no further demur. 

“ Sure ! ” he responded with his usual business- 
like tone, as he strode to the ’phone. His daze was 
passing off. “ Evening clothes ? ” he questioned 
curiously, as if he might not have heard aright. 

“Yes, evening clothes,” was the curt answer, 
“ and everything you’ll need for daytime for a re- 
spectable gentleman of leisure — a tourist, you under- 
stand.” ■ ; 

Gordon perceived that he was being given a mis- 
sion of trust and importance, not unmixed with 
mystery perhaps. He was new in the secret service, 
and it had been his ambition to rise in his chief’s 
good graces. He rang the telephone bell furiously 
and called up the number of his own apartments, giv- 
ing his man orders in a breezy, decisive tone that 


THE BEST MAN 


9 


caused a look of satisfaction to settle about the 
fine wrinkles of the chief’s eyes. 

Gordon’s watch was out and he was telling his 
man on just what car he must leave the apartments 
for the station. The chief noted it was two cars 
ahead of what would have been necessary. His 
gray head gave an almost imperceptible nod of com- 
mendation, and his eyes showed that he was content 
with his selection of a man. 

“ Now, sir,” said Gordon, as he hung up the 
receiver, “ I’m ready for orders.” 

“ Well, you are to go to New York, and take 
a cab for the Cosmopolis Hotel — your room there 
is already secured by wire. Your name is John 
Burnham. The name of the hotel and the number 
of your room are on this memorandum. You will 
find awaiting you an invitation to dine this evening 
with a Mr. Holman, who knows of you as an expert 
in code-reading. Our men met him on the train 
an hour ago and arranged that he should invite you. 
He didn’t know whom they represented, of course. 
He has already tried to ’phone you at the hotel about 
coming to dinner to-night. He knows you are ex- 
pected there before evening. Here is a letter of 
introduction to him from a man he knows. Our 
men got that also. It is genuine, of course. 

“ Last night a message of national importance, 


10 


THE BEST MAN 


written in cipher, was stolen from one of our men 
before it had been read. This is now in the hands 
of Holman, who is hoping to have you decipher it 
for him and a few guests who will also be present 
at dinner. They wish to use it for their own pur- 
poses. Your commission is to get hold of the mes- 
sage and bring it to us as soon as possible. An- 
other message of very different import, written 
upon the same kind of paper, is in this envelope, 
with a translation for you to use in case you have 
to substitute a message. You will have to use your 
own wits and judgment. The main thing is, get the 
paper , and get hack with it, with as little delay as 
possible. Undoubtedly your life will be in danger 
should it be discovered that you have made off with 
it. Spare no care to protect yourself and the mes- 
sage, at all hazards. Remember, I said, and the mes - 
sage, young man! It means much to the country. 

“ In this envelope is money — all you will prob- 
ably need. Telegraph or ’phone to this address if 
you are in trouble. Draw on us for more, if neces- 
sary, also through this same address. Here is the 
code you can use in case you find it necessary to tele- 
graph. Your ticket is already bought. I have sent 
Clarkson to the station for it, and he will meet 
you at the train. You can give him instructions in 
case you find you have forgotten anything. Take 


THE BEST MAN 


11 


your mail with you, and telegraph back orders to 
your stenographer. I think that is all. Oh, yes, 
to-night, while you are at dinner, you will be called 
to the 'phone by one of our men. If you are in 
trouble, this may give you opportunity to get away, 
and put us wise. You will find a motor at the door 
now, waiting to take you to the station. If your 
man doesn’t get there with your things, take the 
train, any way, and buy some more when you get 
to New York. Don’t turn aside from your commis- 
sion for anything. Don’t let anything hinder you! 
Make it a matter of life and death ! Good morning, 
and good luck ! ” 

The chief held out a big, hairy hand that was 
surprisingly warm and soft considering the hard- 
ness of his face and voice, and the young man 
grasped it, feeling as if he were suddenly being 
plunged into waves of an unknown depth and he 
would fain hold on to this strong hand. 

He went out of the office quietly enough, and the 
keen old eyes watched him knowingly, understand- 
ing the beating of the heart under Gordon’s well- 
fitting business coat, the mingled elation and dread 
over the commission. But there had been no hesi- 
tancy, no question of acceptance, when the nature 
of the commission was made known. The young 
man was “ game.” He would do. Not even an 


12 


THE BEST MAN 


eyelash had flickered at the hint of danger. The 
chief felt he would be faithful even in the face of 
possible death. 

Gordon’s man came rushing into the station just 
after he reached there himself. Clarkson was 
already there with the ticket. Gordon had time to 
scribble a message to Julia Bentley, whose perfumed 
scrawl he had read on the way down. Julia had 
bidden him to her presence that evening. He could 
not tell whether he was relieved or sorry to tell her 
he could not come. It began to look to him a good 
deal as if he would ask Julia Bentley to marry him 
some day, when she got tired of playing all the others 
off against him, and he could make up his mind to 
surrender his freedom to any woman. 

He bought a paper and settled himself comfort- 
ably in the parlor car, but his interest was not in the 
paper. His strange commission engaged all his 
thoughts. He took out the envelope containing in- 
structions and went over the matter, looking curi- 
ously at the cipher message and its translation, 
which, however, told him nothing. It was the old 
chief’s way to keep the business to himself until 
such time as he chose to explain. Doubtless it was 
safer for both message and messenger that he did 
not know” the full import of what he was under- 
taking. 


THE BEST MAN 


13 


Gordon carefully noted dovyn everything that 
his chief had told him, comparing it with the written 
instructions in the envelope; arranged in his mind 
just how he would proceed when he reached New 
York; tried to think out a good plan for recovering 
the stolen message, but could not; and so decided 
to trust to the inspiration of the moment. Then it 
occurred to him to clear his overcoat pockets of any 
letters or other tell-tale articles and stow them in 
his suit-case. He might have to leave his overcoat 
behind him. So it would be well to have no clues for 
anyone to follow. 

Having arranged these matters, and prepared a 
few letters with notes for his stenographer, to be 
mailed back to her from Philadelphia, he reread 
Julia* Bentley’s note. When every angular line of 
her tall script was imprinted on his memory, he 
tore the perfumed note into tiny pieces and dropped 
them from the car window. 

The question was, did he or did he not want to 
ask Julia Bentley to become his wife? He had no 
doubt as to what her answer would be. Julia had 
made it pretty plain to him that she would rather 
have him than any of her other admirers; though 
she did like to keep them all attendant upon her. 
Well, that was her right so long as she was un- 
married. He had no fault to find with her. She 


14 


THE BEST MAN 


was a fine girl, and everybody liked her. Also, she 
was of a good family, and with a modest fortune 
in her own right. Everybody was taking it for 
granted that they liked each other. It was time he 
was married and had a real home, he supposed, 
whatever that was — that seemed to have so great 
a charm for all his friends. To his eyes, it had as 
yet taken on no alluring mirage effect. He had 
never known a real home, more than his quiet bach- 
elor apartments were to him now, where his man 
ordered everything as he was told, and the meals 
were sent up when wanted. He had money enough 
from his inheritance to make things more than com- 
fortable, and he was deeply interested in the profes- 
sion he had chosen. 

Still, if he was ever going to marry, it was high 
time, of course. But did he want Julia? He could 
not quite make it seem pleasant to think of her 
in his rooms when he came home at night 
tired; she would always be wanting to go to her 
endless theatre parties and receptions and dances; 
always be demanding his attention. She was bright 
and handsome and well dressed, but he had never 
made love to her. He could not quite imagine him- 
self doing so. How did men make love, any way? 
Could one call it love when it was “made” love? 
These questions followed one another idly through 


THE BEST MAN 


15 


his brain as the landscape whirled past him. If he 
had stayed at home, he would have spent the evening 
with Julia, as she requested in her note, and there 
would probably have been a quiet half-hour after 
other callers had gone when he would have stayed 
as he had been doing of late, and tried to find out 
whether he really cared for her or not. 

Suppose, for instance, they were married, and 
she sat beside him now. Would any glad thrill fill 
his heart as he looked at her beautiful face and real- 
ized that she was his ? He tried to look over toward 
the next chair and imagine that the tired, fat old 
lady with the double chin and the youthful purple 
hat was Julia, but that would not work. He whirled 
his chair about and tried it on an empty chair. That 
went better; but still no thrill of joy lifted him out 
of his sordid self. He could not help thinking about 
little trying details. The way Julia looked when 
she was vexed. Did one mind that in the woman 
one loved? The way she ordered her coachman 
about. Would she ever speak so to her husband? 
She had a charming smile, but her frown was — * 
well — unbecoming to say the least. 

He tried to keep up the fallacy of her presence. 
He bought a magazine that he knew she liked, and 
read a story to her (in imagination). He could 
easily tell how her black eyes would snap at certain 


16 


THE BEST MAN 


phrases she disliked. He knew just what her com- 
ment would be upon the heroine’s conduct. It was 
an old disputed point between them. He knew 
how she would criticize the hero, and somehow he 
felt himself in the hero’s place every time she did 
it The story had not been a success, and he felt 
a weariness as he laid the magazine aside at the call 
for dinner from the dining-car. 

Before he had finished his luncheon he had be- 
gun to feel that though Julia might think now that 
she would like to marry him, the truth about it was 
that she would not enjoy the actual life together 
any better than he would. Were all marriages like 
that? Did people lose the glamour and just settle 
down to endure each other’s faults and make the 
most of each other’s pleasant side, and not have 
anything more ? Or was he getting cynical ? Had 
fie lived alone too long, as his friends sometimes 
told him, and so was losing the ability really to love 
anybody but himself ? He knit his brows, and got 
up whistling to go out and see why the train had 
stopped so long in this little country settlement. 

It was just beyond Princeton, and they were not 
far now from New York. It would be most annoy- 
ing to be delayed so near to his destination. He 
was anxious to get things in train for his evening of 


THE BEST MAN 


17 


hard work. It was necessary to find out how the 
land lay as soon as possible. 

It appeared that there was a wrecked freight 
ahead of them, and there would be delay. No one 
knew just how long; it would depend on how soon 
the wrecking train arrived to help. 

Gordon walked nervously up and down the grass 
at the side of the track, looking anxiously each way 
for sign of the wrecking train. The thought of 
Julia did occur to him, but he put it impatiently 
away, for he knew just how poorly Julia would bear 
a delay on a journey even in his company. He had 
been with her once when the engine got off the track 
on a short trip down to a Virginia house-party, and 
she was the most impatient creature alive, although 
it mattered not one whit to any of the rest of the 
party whether they made merry on the train or at 
their friend’s house. And yet, if Julia were any- 
thing at all to him, would not he like the thought 
of her companionship now? 

A great white dog hobbled up to him and fawned 
upon him as he turned to go back to the train, and 
he laid his hand kindly upon the animal’s head, and 
noted the wistful eyes upon his face. He was a 
noble dog, and Gordon stood for a moment fond- 
ling him. Then he turned impatiently and tramped 


18 


THE BEST MAN 


back to his car again. But when he reached the steps 
he found that the dog had followed him. 

Gordon frowned, half in annoyance, half in 
amusement, and sitting down on a log by the way- 
side he took the dog’s pink nozzle into his hands, 
caressing the white fur above it gently. 

The dog whined happily, and Gordon meditated. 
How long would the train wait? Would he miss 
getting to New York in time for the dinner ? Would 
he miss the chance to rise in his chief’s good graces? 
The chief would expect him to get to New York 
some other way if the train were delayed. How 
long ought he to wait on possibilities ? 

All at once he saw the conductor and trainmen 
coming back hurriedly. Evidently the train was 
about to start. With a final kindly stroke of the 
white head, he called a workman nearby, handed 
him half a dollar to hold the dog, and sprang on 
board. 

He had scarcely settled himself into his chair, 
however, before the dog came rushing up the aisle 
from the other end of the car, and precipitated 
himself muddily and noisily upon him. 

With haste and perturbation Gordon hurried the 
dog to the door and tried to fling him off, but the 
poor creature pulled back and clung to the platform 
yelping piteously. 


THE BEST MAN 


19 


Just then the conductor came from the other 
car and looked at him curiously. 

“ No dogs allowed in these cars,” he said gruffly. 

“ Well, if you know how to enforce that rule 
I wish you would,” said Gordon. “ I’m sure I 
don’t know what to do with him.” 

“ Where has he been since you left Washing- 
ton?” asked the grim conductor with suspicion in 
his eyes. 

“ I certainly haven’t had him secreted about me, 
a dog of that size,” remarked the young man dryly. 
“ Besides, he isn’t my dog. I never saw him before 
till he followed me at the station. I’m as anxious 
to be rid of him as he is to stay.” 

The conductor eyed the young man keenly, and 
then allowed a grim sense of humor to appear in one 
corner of his mouth. 

“Got a chain or a rope for him?” he asked 
more sympathetically. 

“ Well, no,” remarked the unhappy attache of 
the dog. “ Not having had an appointment with the 
dog I didn’t provide myself with a leash for him.” 

“ Take him into the baggage car,” said the con- 
ductor briefly, and slammed his way into the next 
car. 

There seemed nothing else to be done, but it was 
most annoying to be thus forced on the notice of 


to 


THE BEST MAN 


his fellow-travellers, when his commission required 
that he be as inconspicuous as possible. 

At Jersey City he hoped to escape and leave the 
dog to the tender mercies of the baggage man, but 
that official was craftily waiting for him and handed 
the animal over to his unwilling master with a satis- 
faction ill-proportioned to the fee he had received 
for caring for him. 

Then began a series of misfortunes. Disap- 
pointment and suspicion stalked beside him, and 
behind him a voice continually whispered his chief's 
last injunction: “ Don’t let anything hinder you! ” 

Frantically he tried first one place and then an- 
other, but all to no effect. Nobody apparently 
wanted to care for a stray white dog, and his very 
haste aroused suspicion. Once he came near being 
arrested as a dog thief. He could not get rid of that 
dog! Yet he must not let him follow him! Would 
he have to have the animal sent home to Washington 
as the only solution of the problem? Then a queer 
fancy seized him that just in some such way had 
Miss Julia Bentley been shadowing his days for 
nearly three years now; and he had actually this 
very day been considering calmly whether he might 
not have to marry her, just because she was so per- 
sistent in her taking possession of him. Not that 
she was unladylike, of course; no, indeed! She was 


THE BEST MAN 


21 


stately and beautiful, and had never offended. But 
she had always quietly, persistently, taken it for 
granted that he would be her attendant whenever she 
chose ; and she always chose whenever he was in the 
least inclined to enjoy any other woman's company. 

He frowned at himself. Was there something 
weak about his character that a woman or a dog 
could so easily master him? Would any other em- 
ployee in the office, once trusted with his great com- 
mission, have allowed it to be hindered by a dog? 

Gordon could not afford to waste any more time. 
He must get rid of him at once! 

The express office would not take a dog without 
a collar and chain unless he was crated; and the 
delays and exasperating hindrances seemed to be 
interminable. But at last, following the advice of a 
kindly officer, he took the dog to an institution in 
New York where, he was told, dogs were boarded 
and cared for, and where he finally disposed of him, 
having first paid ten dollars for the privilege. As 
he settled back in a taxicab with his watch in his 
hand, he congratulated himself that he had still 
ample time to reach his hotel and get into evening 
dress before he must present himself for his work. 

Within three blocks of the hotel the cab came 
to such a sudden standstill that Gordon was thrown 
to his knees. 


CHAPTER II 


They were surrounded immediately by a crowd 
in which policemen were a prominent feature. The 
chauffeur seemed dazed in the hands of the officers. 

A little, barefoot, white-faced figure huddled 
limply in the midst showed Gordon what had hap- 
pened: also there were menacing glances towards 
himself and a show of lifted stones. He heard 
one boy say: “ You bet he’s in a hurry to git away. 
Them kind alius is. They don’t care who they kills, 
they don’t ! ” 

A great horror seized him. The cab had run 
over a newsboy and perhaps killed him. Yet in- 
stantly came the remembrance of his commission: 
“ Don’t let anything hinder you. Make it a matter 
of life and death! ” Well, it looked as if this was 
a matter of death that hindered him now. 

They bundled the moaning boy into the taxicab 
and as Gordon saw no escape through the tightly 
packed crowd, who eyed him suspiciously, he 
climbed in beside the grimy little scrap of uncon- 
scious humanity, and they were off to the hospital 
to the tune of “ Don’t let anything hinder you! 
Don’t let anything hinder you! ” until Gordon felt 
that if it did not stop soon he would go crazy. He 
22 


THE BEST MAN 


23 


meditated opening the cab door and making his 
escape in spite of the speed they were making, but 
a vision of broken legs and a bed in the hospital for 
himself held him to his seat. One of the policemen 
had climbed on in front with the chauffeur, and now 
and again he glanced back as if he were conveying 
a couple of prisoners to jail. It was vexatious beyond 
anything! And all on account of that white dog! 
Could anything be more ridiculous than the whole 
performance? 

His annoyance and irritation almost made him 
forget that it was his progress through the streets 
that had silenced this mite beside him. But just as 
he looked at his watch for the fifth time the boy 
opened his eyes and moaned, and there was in those 
eyes a striking resemblance to the look in the eyes 
of the dog of whose presence he had but just rid 
himself. 

Gordon started. In spite of himself it seemed 
as if the dog were reproaching him through the 
eyes of the child. Then suddenly the boy spoke. 

“ Will yous stay by me till I’m mended? ” whis- 
pered the weak little voice. 

Gordon’s heart leaped in horror again, and it 
came to him that he was being tried out this day 
to see if he had the right stuff in him for hard tasks. 
The appeal in the little street-boy’s eyes reached 


24 


THE BEST MAN 


him as no request had ever yet done, and yet he 
might not answer it. Duty, — life and death duty, — 
called him elsewhere, and he must leave the little 
fellow whom he had been the involuntary cause of 
injuring, to suffer and perhaps to die. It cut him 
to the quick not to respond to that urgent appeal. 

Was it because he was weary that he was visited 
just then by a vision of Julia Bentley with her 
handsome lips curled scornfully? Julia Bentley 
would not have approved of his stopping to carry 
a boy to the hospital, any more than to care for a 
dog’s comfort. 

“ Look here, kiddie,” he said gently, leaning 
over the child, “ I’d stay by you if I could, but I’ve 
already made myself late for an appointment by 
coming so far with you. Do you know what Duty 
is?” 

The child nodded sorrowfully. 

“ Don’t yous mind me,” he murmured weakly. 
“ Just yous go. I’m game all right.” Then the 
voice trailed off into silence again, and the eyelids 
fluttered down upon the little, grimy, unconscious 
face. 

Gordon went into the hospital for a brief mo- 
ment to leave some money in the hands of the 
authorities for the benefit of the boy, and a message 


THE BEST MAN 


25 


that he would return in a week or two if possible; 
then hurried away. 

Back in the cab once more, he felt as if he had 
killed a man and left him lying by the roadside while 
he continued his unswerving march toward the 
hideous duty which was growing momently more 
portentous, and to be relieved of which he would 
gladly have surrendered further hope of his chief’s 
favor. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but all 
the time the little white face of the child came before 
his vision, and the mocking eyes of Julia Bentley 
tantalized him, as if she were telling him that he had 
spoiled all his chances — and hers — by his foolish 
soft-heartedness. Though, what else could he have 
done than he had done, he asked himself fiercely. 

He looked at his watch. It was at least ten 
minutes’ ride to the hotel, the best time they could 
make. Thanks to his man the process of dressing 
for evening would not take long, for he knew that 
everything would be in place and he would not be 
hindered. He would make short work of his toilet. 
But there was his suit-case. It would not do to leave 
it at the hotel, neither must he take it with him to the 
house where he was to be a guest. There was noth- 
ing for it but to go around by the way of the station 
where it would have to be checked. That meant a 
longer ride and more delay, but it must be done. 


26 


THE BEST MAN 


Arrived at the hotel at last, and in the act of 
signing the unaccustomed “ John Burnham ” in the 
hotel registry, there came a call to the telephone. 

With a hand that trembled from excitement he 
took the receiver. His breath went from him as 
though he had just run up five flights of stairs. 
“Yes? Hello! Oh, Mrs. Holman. Yes! Burn- 
ham. I’ve but just arrived. I was delayed. A 
wreck ahead of the train. Very kind of you to invite 
me, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments, 
as soon as I can get rid of the dust of travel. Thank 
you. Good-by.” 

It all sounded very commonplace to the clerk, 
who was making out bills and fretting because he 
could not get off to take his girl to the theatre that 
night, but as Gordon hung up the receiver he looked 
around furtively as if expecting to see a dozen detec- 
tives ready to seize upon him. It was the first time 
he had ever undertaken a commission under an 
assumed name and he felt as if he were shouting 
his commission through the streets of New York. 

The young man made short work of his toilet. 
Just as he was leaving the hotel a telegram was 
handed him. It was from his chief, and so worded 
that to the operator who had copied it down it read 
like a hasty call to Boston; but to his code-enlight- 
ened eyes it was merely a blind to cover his exit 


THE BEST MAN 


27 


from the hotel and from New York, and set any pos- 
sible hunters on a wrong scent. He marvelled at the 
wonderful mind of his chief, who thought out every 
detail of an important campaign, and forgot not one 
little possible point where difficulty might arise. 

Gordon had a nervous feeling as he again stepped 
into a taxicab and gave his order. He wondered 
how many stray dogs, and newsboys with broken 
legs, would attach themselves to him on the way to 
dinner. Whenever the speed slowed down, or they 
were halted by cars and autos, his heart pounded 
painfully, lest something new had happened, but he 
arrived safely and swiftly at the station, checked 
his suit-case, and took another cab to the residence 
of Mr. Holman, without further incident. 

The company were waiting for him, and after 
the introductions they went immediately to the din- 
ing-room. Gordon took his seat with the feeling 
that he had bungled everything hopelessly, and had 
arrived so late that there was no possible hope of 
his doing what he had been sent to do. For the first 
few minutes his thoughts were a jumble, and his 
eyes dazed with the brilliant lights of the room. He 
could not single out the faces of the people present 
and differentiate them one from another. His heart 
beat painfully against the stiff expanse of evening 
linen. It almost seemed as if those near him could 


£8 


THE BEST MAN 


hear it. He found himself starting and stammering 
when he was addressed as “ Mr. Burnham.’’ His 
thoughts were mingled with white dogs, newsboys, 
and ladies with scornful smiles. 

He was seated on the right of his hostess, and 
gradually her gentle manners gave him quietness. 
He began to gain control of himself, and now he 
seemed to see afar the keen eye of his chief watching 
the testing of his new commissioner. His heart 
swelled to meet the demand made upon him. A 
strong purpose came to him to rise above all obstacles 
and conquer in spite of circumstances. He must 
forget everything else and rise to the occasion. 

From that moment the dancing lights that multi- 
plied themselves in the glittering silver and cut 
glass of the table began to settle into order; and 
slowly, one by one, the conglomeration of faces 
around the board resolved itself into individuals. 

There was the pretty, pale hostess, whose gentle 
ways seemed hardly to fit with her large, boisterous, 
though polished husband. Unscrupulousness was 
written all over his ruddy features, also a certain 
unhidden craftiness which passed for geniality 
among his kind. 

There were two others with faces full of cun- 
ning, both men of wealth and culture. One did not 
think of the word “ refinement ” in connection with 


THE BEST MAN 


them ; still, that might be conceded also ; but it was 
all dominated by the cunning that on this occasion, 
at least, was allowed to sit unmasked upon their 
countenances. They had outwitted an enemy, and 
they were openly exultant. 

Of the other guests, one was very young and 
sleek, with eyes that had early learned to evade; 
one was old and weary-looking, with a hunted ex^ 
press ion ; one was thick-set, with little eyes set close 
in a fat, selfish face. Gordon began to understand 
that these three but did the bidding of the others. 
They listened to the conversation merely from a 
business standpoint and not with any personal 
interest. They were there because they were needed, 
and not because they were desired. 

There was one bond which they seemed to hold 
in common : an alert readiness to combine for their 
mutual safety. This did not manifest itself in any- 
thing tangible, but the guest felt that it was there 
and ready to spring upon him at any instant. 

All this came gradually to the young man as the 
meal with its pleasant formalities began. As yet 
nothing had been said about the reason for his 
being there. 

“ Did you tell me you were in a wreck ? ” sud- 
denly asked the hostess sweetly, turning to him. 


30 


THE BEST MAN 


and the table talk hushed instantly while the host 
asked: “ A wreck! Was it serious? ” 

Gordon perceived his mistake at once. With 
instant caution, he replied smilingly, “ Oh, nothing 
serious, a little break-down on a freight ahead, which 

required time to patch up. It reminded me ” 

and then he launched boldly into one of the bright 
dinner stories for which he was noted among his 
companions at home. His heart was beating wildly, 
but he succeeded in turning the attention of the table 
to his joke, instead of to asking from where he had 
come and on what road. Questions about himself 
were dangerous he plainly saw, if he would get 
possession of the valued paper and get away without 
leaving a trail behind him. He succeeded in one 
thing more, which, though he did not know it, was 
the very thing his chief had hoped he would do when 
he chose him instead of a man who had wider ex- 
perience; he made every man at the table feel that 
he was delightful, a man to be thoroughly trusted 
and enjoyed; who would never suspect them of hav- 
ing any ulterior motives in anything they were doing. 

The conversation for a little time rippled with 
bright stories and repartee, and Gordon began to 
feel almost as if he were merely enjoying a social 
dinner at home, with Julia Bentley down the table 
listening and haughtily smiling her approval. For 


THE BEST MAN 


31 


the time the incidents of the dog and the newsboy 
were forgotten, and the young man felt his self- 
respect rising. His heart was beginning to get 
into normal action again and he could control his 
thoughts. Then suddenly, the crisis arrived. 

The soup and fish courses had been disposed of, 
and the table was being prepared for the entree. 
The host leaned back genially in his chair and said, 
“ By the way, Mr. Burnham, did you know I had 
an axe to grind in asking you here this evening? 
That sounds inhospitable, doesn’t it? But I’m sure 
we’re all grateful to the axe that has given us the 
opportunity of meeting you. We are delighted at 
having discovered you.” 

Gordon bowed, smiling at the compliment, and 
the murmurs of hearty assent around the table 
showed him that he had begun well. If only he 
could keep it up! But how, how , was he to get 
possession of that magic bit of paper and take it 
away with him ? 

“ Mr. Burnham, I was delighted to learn through 
a friend that you are an expert in code-reading. 
I wonder, did the message that my friend Mr. Burns 
sent you this morning give you any intimation that 
I wanted you to do me a favor ? ” 

Gordon bowed again. “ Yes : it was intimated 
ito me that you had some message you would like 


32 


THE BEST MAN 


deciphered, and I have also a letter of introduction 
from Mr. Burns.” 

Here Gordon took the letter of introduction 
from his pocket and handed it across the table to his 
host, who opened it genially, as if it were hardly 
necessary to read what was written within since they 
already knew so delightfully the man whom it in- 
troduced. The duplicate cipher writing in Gordon's 
pocket crackled knowingly when he settled his coat 
about him again, as if it would say, “ My time is 
coming! It is almost here now.” 

The young man wondered how he was to get it 
out without being seen, in case he should want to 
use it, but he smiled pleasantly at his host with no 
sign of the perturbation he was feeling. 

“ You see,” went on Mr. Holman, “ we have an 
important message which we cannot read, and our 
expert who understands all these matters is out of 
town and cannot return for some time. It is neces- 
sary that we know as soon as possible the import 
of this writing.” 

While he was speaking Mr. Holman drew from 
his pocket a long, soft leather wallet and took there- 
from a folded paper which Gordon at once recog- 
nized as the duplicate of the one he carried in his 
pocket. His head seemed to reel, and all the lights 
go dark before him as he reached a cold hand out 


THE BEST MAN 


33 


for the paper. He saw in it his own advancement 
coming to his eager grasp, yet when he got it would 
he be able to hold it? Something of the coolness 
of a man facing a terrible danger came to him now. 
By sheer force of will he held his trembling fingers 
steady as he took the bit of paper and opened it 
carelessly, as if he had never heard of it before, say- 
ing as he did so : 

“ I will do my best.” 

There was a sudden silence as every eye was 
fixed upon him while he unfolded the paper. He 
gave one swift glance about the table before he 
dropped his eyes to the task. Every face held the 
intensity of almost terrible eagerness, and on every 
one but that of the gentle hostess sat cunning — 
craft that would stop at nothing to serve its own 
ends. It was a moment of almost awful import. 

The next instant Gordon’s glance went down to 
the paper in his hand, and his brain and heart were 
seized in the grip of fright. There was no other 
word to describe his feeling. The message before 
him was clearly written in the code of the home 
office, and the words stared at him plainly without 
the necessity of study. The import of them was the 
revelation of one of the most momentous questions 
that had to do with the Secret Service work, a ques- 
tion the answer to which had puzzled the entire 


34 


THE BEST MAN 


department for weeks. That answer he now held 
in his hand, and he knew that if it should come to 
the knowledge of those outside before it had done 
its work through the department it would result in 
dire calamity to the cause of righteousness in the 
country, and incidentally crush the inefficient mes- 
senger who allowed it to become known. For the 
instant Gordon felt unequal to the task before him. 
How could he keep these bloodhounds at bay — for 
such they were, he perceived from the import of the 
message, bloodhounds who were getting ill-gotten 
gains from innocent and unsuspecting victims — - 
some of them little children. 

But the old chief had picked his man well. Only 
for an instant the glittering lights darkened before 
his eyes and the cold perspiration started. Then he 
rallied his forces and looked up. The welfare of a 
nation’s honor was in his hands, and he would be 
true. It was a matter of life and death, and he 
would save it or lose his own life if need be. 

He summoned his ready smile. 

“ I shall be glad to serve you if I can,” he said. 
“ Of course I’d like to look this over a few minutes 
before attempting to read it. Codes are different, 
you know, from one another, but there is a key to 
them all if one can just find it out. This looks as 
if it might be very simple.” 


THE BEST MAN 


35 


The spell of breathlessness was broken. The 
guests relaxed and went on with their dinner. 

Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to keep up a 
pretense of eating, the paper held in one hand while 
he seemed to be studying it. Once he turned it over 
and looked on the back. There was a large cross- 
mark in red ink at the upper end. He looked at it 
curiously and then instinctively at his host. 

“ That is my own mark,” said Mr. Holman. “ I 
put it there to distinguish it from other papers.” 
He was smiling politely, but he might as well have 
said, “ I put it there to identify it in case of theft;” 
for every one at the table, unless it might be his 
wife, understood that that was what he meant. Gor- 
don felt it and was conscious of the other paper 
in his vest-pocket. The way was going to be most 
difficult. 

Among the articles in the envelope which the 
chief had given him before his departure from 
Washington were a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses, 
a false mustache, a goatee, and a pair of eyebrows. 
He had laughed at the suggestion of high-tragedy 
contained in the disguise, but had brought them with 
him for a possible emergency. The eye-glasses were 
tucked into the vest-pocket beside the duplicate 
paper. He bethought himself of them now. Could 
he, under cover of taking them out, manage to ex- 


THE BEST MAN 


change the papers? And if he should, how about 
that red-ink mark across the back? Would any one 
notice its absence? It was well to exchange the 
papers as soon as possible before the writing had 
been studied by those at the table, for he knew that 
the other message, though resembling this one in 
general words, differed enough to attract the atten- 
tion of a close observer. Dared he risk their noticing 
the absence of the red cross on the back? 

Slowly, cautiously, under cover of the conver- 
sation, he managed to get that duplicate paper out 
of his pocket and under the napkin in his lap. This 
he did with one hand, all the time ostentatiously 
holding the code message in the other hand, with its 
back to the people at the table. This hand mean- 
while also held his coat lapel out that he might the 
more easily search his vest-pockets for the glasses. 
It all looked natural. The hostess was engaged in 
a whispered conversation with the maid at the 
moment. The host and other guests were finishing 
the exceedingly delicious patties on their plates, and 
the precious code message was safely in evidence, 
red cross and all. They saw no reason to be sus- 
picious about the stranger’s hunt for his glasses. 

“ Oh, here they are ! ” he said, quite uncon- 
cernedly, and put on the glasses to look more closely 
at the paper, spreading it smoothly on the table cloth 


THE BEST MAN 


37 


before him, and wondering how he should get it 
into his lap in place of the one that now lay quietly 
under his napkin. 

The host and the guests politely refrained from 
talking to Gordon and told each other incidents of 
the day in low tones that indicated the non-impor- 
tance of what they were saying; while they waited 
for the real business of the hour. 

Then the butler removed the plates, pausing be- 
side Gordon waiting punctiliously with his silver 
tray to brush away the crumbs. 

This was just what Gordon waited for. It had 
come to him as the only way. Courteously he drew 
aside, lifting the paper from the table and putting 
it in his lap, for just the instant while the butler did 
his work ; but in that instant the paper with the red 
cross was slipped under the napkin, and the other 
paper took its place upon the table, back down so 
that its lack of a red cross could not be noted. 

So far, so good, but how long could this be kept 
up? And the paper under the napkin — how was it 
to be got into his pocket? His hands were like 
ice now, and his brain seemed to be at boiling heat 
as he sat back and realized that the deed was done, 
and could not be undone. If any one should pick 
up that paper from the table and discover the lack of 
the red mark, it would be all up with him. He looked 


THE BEST MAN 


up for an instant to meet the gaze of the six men 
upon him. They had nothing better to do now than 
to look at him until the next course arrived. He 
realized that not one of them would have mercy 
upon him if they knew what he had done, not one 
unless it might be the tired, old-looking one, and he 
would not dare interfere. 

Still Gordon was enabled to smile, and to say 
some pleasant nothings to his hostess when she 
passed him the salted almonds. His hand lay care- 
lessly guarding the secret of the paper on the table, 
innocently, as though it just happened that he laid 
it on the paper. 

Sitting thus with the real paper in his lap under 
his large damask napkin, the false paper under his 
hand on the table where he from time to time pe- 
rused it, and his eye-glasses which made him look 
most distinguished still on his nose, he heard the 
distant telephone bell ring. 

He remembered the words of his chief and sat 
rigid. From his position he could see the tall clock 
in the hall, and its gilded hands pointed to ten 
minutes before seven. It was about the time his 
chief had said he would be called on the telephone. 
What should he do with the two papers ? 

He had but an instant to think until the well- 
trained butler returned and announced that some 


THE BEST MAN 


39 


one wished to speak with Mr. Burnham on the 
telephone. His resolve was taken. He would have 
to leave the substitute paper on the table. To carry 
it away with him might arouse suspicion, and, more- 
over, he could not easily manage both without being 
noticed. The real paper must be put safely away 
at all hazards, and he must take the chance that the 
absence of the red mark would remain unnoticed 
until his return. 

Deliberately he laid a heavy silver spoon across 
one edge of the paper on the table, and an icecream 
fork across the other, as if to hold it in place 
until his return. Then, rising with apologies, 
he gathered his napkin, paper, and all in his hand, 
holding it against his coat most naturally, as 
if he had forgotten that he had it, and made his 
way into the front hall, where in an alcove was the 
telephone. As he passed the hat-rack he swept 
his coat and hat off with his free hand, and bore 
them with him, devoutly hoping that he was not 
being watched from the dining room. Could he 
possibly get from the telephone out the front door 
without being seen ? Hastily he hid the cipher mes- 
sage in an inner pocket. The napkin he dropped on 
the little telephone table, and taking up the receiver 
he spoke: “Hello! Yes! Oh, good evening! You 
don’t say so! How did that haDDen?” He made 


40 


THE BEST MAN 


his voice purposely clear, that it might be heard 
in the dining room if anyone was listening. Then 
glancing in that direction he saw, to his horror, his 
host lean over and lift the cipher paper he had left 
on the table and hand it to the guest on his right. 

The messenger at the other end had given his 
sentence agreed upon and he had replied according 
to the sentences laid down by the chief in his in- 
structions; the other end had said good-bye and 
hung up, but Gordon’s voice spoke, cool and clear 
in the little alcove, despite his excitement. “ All 
right. Certainly, I can take time to write it down. 
Wait until I get my pencil. Now, I’m ready. Have 
you it there? I’ll wait a minute until you get it.” 
His heart beat wildly. The blood surged through 
his ears like rushing waters. Would they look for 
the little red mark? The soft clink of spoons and 
dishes and the murmur of conversation was still 
going on, but there was no doubt but that it was a 
matter of a few seconds before his theft would be 
discovered. He must make an instant dash for lib- 
erty while he yet could. Cautiously, stealthily, like 
a shadow from the alcove, one eye on the dining 
room, he stole to the door and turned the knob. 
Yet even as he did so he saw his recent host rise 
excitedly from his seat and fairly snatch the paper 
from the man who held it His last glimpse of the 


THE BEST MAN 


41 


room where he had but three minutes before been 
enjoying the hospitality of the house was a vision 
of the entire company starting up and pointing to 
himself even as he slid from sight. There was no 
longer need for silence. He had been discovered 
and must fight for his life. He shut the door quickly, 
his nerves so tense that it seemed as if something 
must break soon; opened and slammed the outer 
door, and was out in the great whirling city under 
the flare of electric lamps with only the chance of a 
second of time before his pursuers would be upon 
him. 

He came down the steps with the air of one who 
could scarcely take time to touch his feet to the 
ground, but must fly. 


CHAPTER III 


Almost in front of the house stood a closed car* 
riage with two fine horses, but the coachman was 
looking up anxiously toward the next building. The 
sound of the closing door drew the man’s attention, 
and, catching Gordon’s eye, he made as if to jump 
down and throw open the door of the carriage. 
Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had been mistaken 
for the man the carriage awaited, and he determined 
to make use of the circumstance. 

“ Don’t get down,” he called to the man, taking 
chances. “ It’s very late already. I’ll open the 
door. Drive for all you’re worth.” He jumped in 
and slammed the carriage door behind him, and in 
a second more the horses were flying down the street. 
A glance from the back window showed an excited 
group of his fellow-guests standing at the open door 
of the mansion he had just left pointing toward his 
carriage and wildly gesticulating. He surmised that 
his host was already at the telephone calling for 
his own private detective. 

Gordon could scarcely believe his senses that he 
had accomplished his mission and flight so far, and 
yet he knew his situation was most precarious. 
■Where he was going he neither knew nor cared. 

42 


THE BEST MAN 


43 


.When he was sure he was far enough from the house 
he would call to the driver and give him directions, 
but first he must make sure that the precious paper 
was safely stowed away, in case he should be caught 
and searched. They might be coming after him with 
motor-cycles in a minute or two. 

Carefully rolling the paper into a tiny compass, 
he slipped it into a hollow gold case which was among 
the things in the envelope the chief had given him. 
There was a fine chain attached to the case, and the 
whole looked innocently like a gold pencil. The 
chain he slipped about his neck, dropping the case 
down inside his collar. That done he breathed more 
freely. Only from his dead body should they take 
that away. Then he hastily put on the false eye- 
brows, mustache, and goatee which had been pro- 
vided for his disguise, and pulling on a pair of light 
gloves he felt more fit to evade detection. 

He was just beginning to think what he should 
say to the driver about taking him to the station, 
for it was important that he get out of the city at 
once, when, glancing out of the window to see what 
part of the city he was being taken through he be- 
came aware of an auto close beside the carriage keep- 
ing pace with it, and two men stretching their necks 
as if to look into the carriage window at him. He 
withdrew tc the shadow instantly so that they could 


44 


THE BEST MAN 


not see him, but the one quick glance he had made 
him sure that one of his pursuers was the short 
thick-set man with the cruel jaw who had sat across 
from him at the dinner table a few minutes before. 
If this were so he had practically no chance at all 
of escape, for what was a carriage against a swift 
moving car and what was he against a whole city full 
of strangers and enemies? If he attempted to drop 
from the carriage on the other side and escape into 
the darkness he had but a chance of a thousand at 
not being seen, and he could not hope to hide and 
get away in this unknown part of the city. Yet he 
must take his chance somehow, for the carriage must 
sooner or later get somewhere and he be obliged to 
face his pursuers. 

To make matters worse, just at the instant when 
he had decided to jump at the next dark place and 
was measuring the distance with his eye, his hand 
even being outstretched to grasp the door handle, 
a blustering, boisterous motor-cycle burst into full 
bloom just where he intended to jump, and the man 
who rode it was in uniform. He dodged back into 
the darkness of the carriage again that he might 
not be seen, and the motor-cycle came so near that 
its rider turned a white face and looked in. He felt 
that his time had come, and his cause was lost. It 
had not yet occurred to him that the men who were 


THE BEST MAN 


45 


pursuing him would hardly be likely to call in munici- 
pal aid in their search, lest their own duplicity would 
be discovered. He reasoned that he was dealing 
with desperate men who would stop at nothing to get 
back the original cipher paper, and stop his mouth. 
He was well aware that only death would be consid- 
ered a sufficient silencer for him after what he had 
seen at Mr. Holman’s dinner table, for the evidence 
he could give would involve the honor of every man 
who had sat there. He saw in a flash that the two 
henchmen whom he was sure were even now riding 
in the car on his right had been at the table for the 
purpose of silencing him if he showed any signs of 
giving trouble. The wonder was that any of them 
dared call in a stranger on a matter of such grave 
import which meant ruin to them all if they were 
found out, but probably they had reasoned that every 
man had his price and had intended to offer him 
a share of the booty. It was likely that the chief had 
caused it to be understood by them that he was the 
right kind of man for their purpose. Yet, of course, 
they had taken precautions, and now they had him 
well caught, an auto on one side, a motor-cycle on 
the other and no telling how many more behind! 
He had been a fool to get into this carriage. He 
might have known it would only trap him to his 
death There seemed absolutely no chance for escape 


46 


THE BEST MAN 


now — yet he must fight to the last. He put his 
hand on his revolver to make sure it was easy to get 
at, tried to think whether it would not be better to 
chew up and swallow that cipher message rather 
than to run the risk of its falling again into the hands 
of the enemy; decided that he must carry it intact 
to his chief if possible; and finally that he must make 
a dash for safety at once, when just then the car- 
riage turned briskly into a wide driveway, and the 
attendant auto and motor-cycle dropped behind as 
if puzzled at the move. The carriage stopped short 
and a bright light from an open doorway was flung 
into his face. There seemed to be high stone walls 
on one side and the lighted doorway on the other 
hand evidently led into a great stone building. He 
could hear the puffing of the car and cycle just be- 
hind. A wild notion that the carriage had been 
placed in front of the house to trap him in case 
he tried to escape, and that he had been brought to 
prison, flitted through his mind. 

His hand was on his revolver as the coachman 
jumped down to fling open the carriage door, for he 
intended to fight for his liberty to the last. 

He glanced back through the carriage window, 
and the lights of the auto glared in his face. The 
short, thick-set man was getting out of the car, 
and the motor-cyclist had stood his machine up 


THE BEST MAN 


47 


against the wall and was coming toward the carriage. 
Escape was going to be practically impossible. A ; 
wild thought of dashing out the opposite door of 
his carriage, boldly seizing the motor-cycle and mak- 
ing off on it passed through his mind, and then the 
door on his left was flung open and the carriage 
was immediately surrounded by six excited men in 
evening dress all talking at once. “ Here you are 
at last ! ” they chorused. 

“ Where is the best man ? ” shouted some one 
from the doorway. “ Hasn’t he come either? ” And 
as if in answer one of the men by the carriage door 
wheeled and called excitedly: “ Yes, he’s come! Tell 
him — tell Jeff — tell him he’s come.” Then turning 
once more to Gordon he seized him by the arm and 
cried : “ Come on quickly ! There isn’t a minute to 
wait. The organist is fairly frantic. Everybody 
has been just as nervous as could be. We couldn’t 
very well go on without you — you know. But don’t 
let that worry you. It’s all right now you’ve come. 
Forget it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly Gordon per- 
ceived above the sound of subdued hubbub that an 
organ was playing, and even as he listened it burst 
into the joyous notes of the wedding march. It 
dawned upon him that this was not a prison to which 
he had come but a church — not a court-room but a 
wedding, and horror of horrors! they took him 


48 


THE BEST MAN 


for the best man. His disguise had been his undo- 
ing. How was he to get out of this scrape? And 
with his pursuers just behind! 

“ Let me explain ” he began, and wondered 

what he could explain. 

“ There’s no time for explanations now, man. 
I tell you the organ has begun the march. We’re 
expected to be marching down that middle aisle this 
very minute and Jeff is waiting for us in the chapel. 
I sent the signal to the bride and another to the 
organist the minute we sighted you. Come on! 
Everybody knows your boat was late in coming in. 
You don’t need to explain a thing till afterwards.” 

At that moment one of the ushers moved aside 
and the short, thick-set man stepped between, the 
light shining full upon his face, and Gordon knew 
him positively for the man who had sat opposite 
him at the table a few minutes before. He was 
peering eagerly into the carriage door and Gordon 
saw his only escape was into the church. With his 
heart pounding like a trip hammer he yielded him- 
self to the six ushers, who swept the little pursuer 
aside as if he had been a fly and literally bore Gordon 
up the steps and into the church door. 

A burst of music filled his senses, and dazzling 
lights, glimpses of flowers, palms and beautiful gar- 
ments bewildered him. His one thought was for 


THE BEST MAN 


49 


escape from his pursuers. Would they follow him 
into the church and drag him out in the presence 
of all these people, or would they be thrown off the 
track for a little while and give him opportunity 
yet to get away? He looked around wildly for a 
place of exit but he was in the hands of the insistent 
ushers. One of them chattered to him in a low, 
growling whisper, such as men use on solemn 
occasions : 

“ It must have been rough on you being anxious 
like this about getting here, but never mind now. 
It’ll go all right. Come on. Here’s our cue and 
there stands Jefferson over there. You and he go 
in with the minister, you know. The groom and 
the best man, you understand, they’ll tell you when. 
Jeff has the ring all right, so you won’t need to 
bother about that. There’s absolutely nothing for 
you to do but stand where you’re put and go out 
when the rest do. You needn’t feel a bit nervous.” 

Was it possible that these crazy people didn’t 
recognize their mistake even yet here in the bright 
light? Couldn’t they see his mustache was stuck 
on and one eyebrow was crooked ? Didn’t they know 
their best man well enough to recognize his voice? 
Surely, surely, some one would discover the mis- 
take soon — that man Jeff over there who was eye- 
ing him so intently. He would be sure to know 
4 


50 


THE BEST MAN 


this was not his friend. Yet every minute that they 
continued to think so was a distinct gain for Gordon, 
puzzling his pursuers and giving himself time to 
think and plan and study his strange surroundings. 

And now they were drawing him forward and a 
turn of his head gave him a vision of the stubbed 
head of the thick-set man peering in at the chapel 
door and watching him eagerly. He must fool him 
if possible. 

“ But I don’t know anything about the arrange- 
ments,” faltered Gordon, reflecting that the best 
man might not be very well known to the ushers and 
perhaps he resembled him. It was not the first time 
he had been taken for another man — and with his 
present make-up and all, perhaps it was natural. 
Could he possibly hope to bluff it out for a few 
minutes until the ceremony was over and then 
escape? It would of course be the best way imag- 
inable to throw that impudent little man in the door- 
way off his track. If the real best man would only 
stay away long enough it would not be a difficult- 
part to play. The original man might turn up after 
he was gone and create a pleasant little mystery, but 
nobody would be injured thereby. All this passed 
through his mind while the usher kept up his sepul- 
chral whisper: 

Why, there are just the usual arrangements. 


THE BEST MAN 


51 


you know — nothing new. You and Jeff go in after 
the ushers have reached the back of the church and 
opened the door. Then you just stand there till 
Celia and her uncle come up the aisle. Then follows 
the ceremony — very brief. Celia had all that re- 
peating after the minister cut out on account of not 
being able to rehearse. It’s to be just the simplest 
service, not the usual lengthy affair. Don’t worry, 
you’ll be all right, old man. Hurry ! they’re calling 
you. Leave your hat right here. Now I must go. 
Keep cool. It’ll soon be over.” 

The breathless usher hurried through the door 
and settled into a sort of exalted hobble to the time 
of the wonderful Lohengrin music. Gordon turned, 
thinking even yet to make a possible escape, but the 
eagle-eye of his pursuer was upon him and the man 
Jefferson was by his side : 

“ Here we are ! ” he said, eagerly grabbing Gor- 
don’s hat and coat and dumping them on a chair 
“ I’ll look after everything. Just come along. It’s 
time we went in. The doctor is motioning for us. 
Awfully glad to see you at last. Too bad you had to 
rush so. How many years is it since I saw you? 
Ten! You’ve changed some, but you’re looking fine 
and dandy. No need to worry about anything. It’ll 
soon be over and the knot tied.” 

Mechanically Gordon fell into place beside the 


52 


THE BEST MAN 


man Jefferson, who was a pleasant- faced youth, 
well-groomed and handsome. Looking furtively at 
his finely-cut, happy features, Gordon wondered if 
he would feel as glad as this youth seemed to be, 
when he walked down the aisle to meet his bride. 
How, by the way, would he feel if he were going to 
be married now, — going into the face of this great 
company of well-dressed people to meet Miss Julia 
Bentley and be joined to her for life? Instinctively 
his soul shrank within him at the thought. 

But now the door was wide open, the organ peal- 
ing its best, and he suddenly became aware of many 
eyes, and of wondering how long his eyebrows 
would withstand the perspiration that was trickling 
softly down his forehead. His mustache — ridicu- 
lous appendage ! why had he not removed it ? — was 
it awry? Dared he put up his hand to see? His 
gloves! Would any one notice that they were not 
as strictly fresh as a best man’s gloves should be? 
Then he took his first step to the music, and it was 
like being pulled from a delicious morning nap and 
plunged into a tub of icy water. 

He walked with feet that suddenly weighed like 
lead, across a church that looked to be miles in width, 
in the face of swarms of curious eyes. He tried to 
reflect that these people were all strangers to him, 
that they were not looking at him, any way, but at 


THE BEST MAN 


53 


the bridegroom by his side, and that it mattered very 
little what he did, so long as he kept still and braved 
it out, if only the real best man didn’t turn up until 
he was well out of the church. Then he could 
vanish in the dark, and go by some back way to a car 
or a taxicab and so to the station. The thought of 
the paper inside the gold pencil-case filled him with 
a sort of elation. If only he could get out of this 
dreadful church, he would probably get away safely. 
Perhaps even the incident of the wedding might 
prove to be his protection, for they would never seek 
him in a crowded church at a fashionable wedding. 

4 The man by his side managed him admirably, 
giving him a whispered hint, a shove, or a push now 
and then, and getting him into the proper position. 
It seemed as if the best man had to occupy the most 
trying spot in all the church, but as they put him 
there, of course it was right. He glanced furtively 
over the faces near the front, and they all looked 
quite satisfied, as if everything were going as it 
should, so he settled down to his fate, his white, 
strained face partly hidden by the abundant display 
of mustache and eyebrow. People whispered softly 
how handsome he looked, and some suggested that 
he was not so stout as when they had last seen him, 
ten years before. His stay in a foreign land must 
have done him good. One woman went so far as 


54 


THE BEST MAN 


to tell her daughter that he was far more distin- 
guished-looking than she had ever thought he could 
become, but it was wonderful what a stay in a for- 
eign land would do to improve a person. 

The music stole onward ; and slowly, gracefully, 
like the opening of buds into flowers, the bridal party 
inched along up the middle aisle until at last the 
bride in all the mystery of her white veil arrived, 
and all the maidens in their flowers and many col- 
ored gauzes were suitably disposed about her. 

The feeble old man on whose arm the bride had 
leaned as she came up the aisle dropped out of the 
procession, melting into one of the front seats, and 
Gordon found himself standing beside the bride. 
He felt sure there must be something wrong about 
it, and looked at his young guide with an attempt 
to change places with him, but the man named Jeffer- 
son held him in place with a warning eye. “ You’re 
all right. Just stay where you are,” he whispered 
softly, and Gordon stayed, reflecting on the strange 
fashions of weddings, and wondering why he had 
never before taken notice of just how a wedding 
party came in and stood and got out again. If he 
was only out of this how glad he would be. It 
seemed one had to be a pretty all-around man to be 
a member of the Secret Service. 

The organ had hushed its voice to a sort of exult- 


THE BEST MAN 


55 


ant sobbing, filled with dreams of flowers and joys, 
and hints of sorrow; and the minister in a voice 
both impressive and musical began the ceremony. 
Gordon stood doggedly and wondered if that really 
was one eyebrow coming down over his eye, or only 
a drop of perspiration. 

Another full second passed, and he decided that 
if he ever got out of this situation alive he would 
never, no, never, no, never, get married himself. 

During the next second that crawled by he 
became supremely conscious of the creature in white 
by his side. A desire possessed him to' look at her 
and see if she were like Julia Bentley. It was like 
a nightmare haunting his dreams that she was Julia 
Bentley somehow transported to New York and 
being married to him willy-nilly. He could not 
shake it off, and the other eyebrow began to feel 
shaky. He was sure it was sailing down over his 
eye. If he only dared press its adhesive lining a 
little tighter to his flesh ! 

Some time during the situation there came a 
prayer, interminable to his excited imagination, as 
all the other ceremonies. 

Under cover of the hush and the supposedly 
bowed heads, Gordon turned desperately toward the 
bride. He must see her and drive this phantasm 
from his brain. He turned, half expecting to see 


66 


THE BEST MAN 


Julia’s tall, handsome form, though telling himself 
he was a fool, and wondering why he so dreaded 
the idea. Then his gaze was held fascinated. 

She was a little creature, slender and young and 
very beautiful, with a beauty which a deathly pallor 
only enhanced. Her face was delicately cut, and 
set in a frame of fine dark hair, the whole made 
most exquisite by the mist of white tulle that 
breathed itself about her like real mist over a flower. 
But the lovely head drooped, the coral lips had a 
look of unutterable sadness, and the long lashes 
swept over white cheeks. He could not take his 
eyes from her now that he had looked. How lovely, 
and how fitting for the delightful youth by his side! 
Now that he thought of it she was like him, only 
smaller and more delicate, of course. A sudden 
fierce, ridiculous feeling of envy filled Gordon’s 
heart. Why couldn’t he have known and loved a 
girl like that? Why had Julia Bentley been forever 
in his pathway as the girl laid out for his choice ? 

He looked at her with such intensity that a couple 
of dear old sisters who listened to the prayer with 
their eyes wide open, whispered one to the other: 
“ Just see him look at her ! How he must love her ! 
Wasn’t it beautiful that he should come right from 
the steamer to the church and never see her till 


THE BEST MAN 


57 


now, for the first time in ten long years. It’s so 
romantic ! ” 

“Yes,” whispered the other; “and I believe 
it’ll last. He looks at her that way. Only I do 
dislike that way of arranging the hair on his face. 
But then it’s foreign I suppose. He’ll probably get 
over it if they stay in this country.” 

A severe old lady in the seat in front turned a 
reprimanding chin toward them and they subsided. 
Still Gordon continued to gaze. 

Then the bride became aware of his look, raised 
her eyes, and — they were full of tears! 

They gave him one reproachful glance that shot 
through his soul like a sword, and her lashes 
drooped again. By some mysterious control over 
the law of gravity, the tears remained unshed, and 
the man’s gaze was turned aside; but that look had 
done its mighty work. 

All the experiences of the day rushed over him 
and seemed to culminate in that one look. It was 
as if the reproach of all things had come upon him. 
The hurt in the white dog’s eyes had touched him, 
the perfect courage in the appeal of the child’s eyes 
had called forth his deepest sympathy, but the tears 
of this exquisite woman wrung his heart. He saw 
now that the appeal of the dog and the child had 
been the opening wedge for the look of a woman, 


58 


THE BEST MAN 


which tore self from him and flung it at her feet 
for her to walk upon; and when the prayer was 
ended he found that he was trembling. 

He looked vindictively at the innocent youth 
beside him, as the soft rustle of the audience and 
the little breath of relief from the bridal party 
betokened the next stage in the ceremony. What 
had this innocent-looking youth done to cause tears 
in those lovely eyes ? Was she marrying him against 
her will ? He was only a boy, any way. What right 
had he to suppose he could care for a delicate crea- 
ture like that ? He was making her cry already, and 
he seemed to be utterly unconscious of it. What 
could be the matter? Gordon felt a desire to kick 
him. 

Then it occurred to him that inadvertently he 
might have been the cause of her tears; he, sup- 
posedly the best man, who had been late, and held 
tip the wedding no knowing how long. Of course 
it wasn’t really his fault; but by proxy it was, for 
he now was masquerading as that unlucky best man, 
and she was very likely reproaching him for what 
she supposed was his stupidity. He had heard that 
women cried sometimes from vexation, disappoint- 
ment or excitement. 

Yet in his heart of hearts he could not set those 
tears, that look, down to so trivial a cause. They 


THE BEST MAN 


59 


had reached his very soul, and he felt there was 
something deeper there than mere vexation- There 
had been bitter reproach for a deep wrong done. 
The glance had told him that. All the manhood in 
him rose to defend her against whoever had hurt 
her. He longed to get one more look into her eyes 
to make quite sure; and then, if there was still 
appeal there, his soul must answer it. 

For the moment his commission, his ridiculous 
situation, the real peril to his life and trust, were 
forgotten. 

The man Jefferson had produced a ring and was 
nudging him. It appeared that the best man had 
some part to play with that ring. He dimly remem- 
bered somewhere hearing that the best man must 
hand the ring to the bridegroom at the proper mo- 
ment, but it was absurd for them to* go through the 
farce of doing that when the bridegroom already 
held the golden circlet in his fingers ! Why did he 
not step up like a man and put it upon the out- 
stretched hand; that little white hand just in front 
of him there, so timidly held out with its glove 
fingers tucked back, like a dove crept out from its 
covert unwillingly? 

But that Jefferson-man still held out the ring 
stupidly to him, and evidently expected him to take 
it Silly youth! There was nothing for it but to 


60 


THE BEST MAN 


take it and hand it back, of course. He must do 
as he was told and hasten that awful ceremony to 
its interminable close. He took the ring and held 
it out, but the young man did not take it again. 
Instead he whispered, “ Put it on her finger ! ” 

Gordon frowned. Could he be hearing aright? 
Why didn’t the fellow put the ring on his own 
bride? If he were being married, he would knock 
any man down that dared to put his wife’s wedding 
ring on for him. Could that be the silly custom now, 
to have the best man put the bride’s ring on ? How 
unutterably out of place! But he must not make 
a scene, of course. 

The little timid hand, so slender and white, came 
a shade nearer as if to help, and the ring finger 
separated itself from the others. 

He looked at the smooth circlet. It seemed too 
tiny for any woman’s finger. Then, reverently, he 
slipped it on, with a strange, inexpressible longing 
to touch the little hand. While he was thinking 
himself all kinds of a fool, and was enjoying one 
of his intermittent visions of Julia Bentley’s ex- 
pressive countenance interpolated on the present 
scene, a strange thing happened. 

There had been some low murmurs and motions 
which he had not noticed because he thought his 
part of this very uncomfortable affair was about 


THE BEST MAN 


61 


concluded, when, lo and behold, the minister and 
the young man by his side both began fumbling 
for his hand, and among them they managed to 
bring it into position and place in its astonished 
grasp the little timid hand that he had just crowned 
with its ring. 

As his fingers closed over the bride's hand, there 
was such reverence, such tenderness in his touch 
that the girl’s eyes were raised once more to his 
face, this time with the conquered tears in retreat, 
but all the pain and appeal still there. He looked 
and involuntarily he pressed her hand the closer, 
as if to promise aforetime whatever she would 
ask. Then, with her hand in his, and with the real- 
ization that they two were detached as it were from 
the rest of the wedding party, standing in a little 
centre of their own, his senses came back to him, 
and he perceived as in a flash of understanding that 
it was they who were being married ! 

There had been some terrible, unexplainable mis- 
take, and he was stupidly standing in another man’s 
place, taking life vows upon himself! The thing 
had passed from an adventure of little moment into 
a matter of a life-tragedy, two life-tragedies per- 
haps ! What should he do? 

With the question came the words, “ I pronounce 
you husband and wife,” and “ let no man put 
asunder.” 


CHAPTER IV 


What had he done? Was it some great un- 
earned, unheard-of crime he had unconsciously com- 
mitted? Could any one understand or excuse such 
asinine stupidity? Could he ever hold up his head 
again, though he fled to the most distant part of the 
globe ? Was there nothing that could save the situa- 
tion? Now, before they left the church, could he 
not declare the truth, and set things right, undo the 
words that had been spoken in the presence of all 
these witnesses, and send out to find the real bride- 
groom? Surely neither law nor gospel could en- 
dorse a bond made in the ignorance of either par- 
ticipant. It would, of course, be a terrible thing 
for the bride, but better now than later. Besides, 
he was pledged by that hand-clasp to answer the 
appeal in her eyes and protect her. This, then, was 
what it had meant! 

But his commission! What of that? “ A mat- 
ter of life and death! ” Ah! but this was more than 
life or death ! 

While these rapid thoughts were flashing 
through his brain, the benediction was being pro- 
nounced, and with the last word the organ pealed 
forth its triumphant lay. The audience stirred ex- 


THE BEST MAN 


63 


citedly, anticipating the final view of the wedding 
procession. 

The bride turned to take her bouquet from the 
maid of honor, and the movement broke the spell 
under which Gordon had been held. 

He turned to the young man by his side and 
spoke hurriedly in a low tone. 

“ An awful mistake has been made/’ he said, 
and the organ drowned every thing but the word 
“ mistake.” “ I don’t know what to do,” he went 
on. But young Jefferson hastened to reassure him 
joyously: 

“Not a bit of it, old chap. Nobody noticed 
that hitch about the ring. It was only a second. 
Everything went off slick. You haven’t anything 
more to do now but take my sister out. Look alive, 
there! She looks as if she might be going to faint! 
She hasn’t been a bit well all day! Steady her, 
quick, can’t you? She’ll stick it out till she gets to 
the air, but hurry, for goodness’ sake ! ” 

Gordon turned in alarm. Already the frail 
white bride had a claim on him. His first duty 
was to get her out of this crowd. Perhaps, after all, 
she had discovered that he was not the right man, 
and that was the meaning of her tears and appeal. 
Yet she had held her own and allowed things to 
go through to the finish, and perhaps he had no right 


64 


THE BEST MAN 


to reveal to the assembled multitudes what she evb 
dently wanted kept quiet. He must wait till he could 
ask her. He must do as this other man said — this — 
this brother of hers — who was of course the best 
man. Oh, fool, and blind ! Why had he not under- 
stood at the beginning and got himself out of this 
fix before it was too late? And what should he do 
when he reached the door? How could he ever 
explain? His commission! He dared not breathe 
a word of that ? What explanation could he possibly 

offer for his — his — yes his criminal conduct? 

Why, no such thing was ever heard of in the history 
of mankind as that which had happened to him. 

From start to finish it was — it — was He could 

not think of words to express what it was. 

He was by this time meandering jerkily down 
the aisle, attempting to keep time to the music and 
look the part that she evidently expected him to 
play, but his eyes were upon her face, which was 
whiter now and, if possible, lovelier, than before. 

“ Oh, just see how devoted he is,” murmured 
the eldest of the two dear old sisters, and he caught 
the sense of her words as he passed, and wondered. 
Then, immediately before him, retreating backward 
down the aisle with terrible eyes of scorn upon him, 
he seemed to feel the presence of Miss Julia Bentley 
leading onward toward the church door; but he 


THE BEST MAN 


65 


would not take his eyes from that sweet, sad face 
of the white bride on his arm to look. He somehow 
knew that if he could hold out until he reached that 
door without looking up, her power over him would 
be exorcised forever. 

Out into the vacant vestibule, under the tented 
canopy, alone together for the moment, he felt her 
gentle weight grow heavy on his arm, and knew her 
footsteps were lagging. Instinctively, lest others 
should gather around them, he almost lifted her and 
bore her down the carpeted steps, through the cov- 
ered pathway, to the luxurious motor-car waiting 
with open door, and placed her on the cushions. 
Some one closed the car door and almost immedi- 
ately they were in motion. 

She settled back with a half sigh, as if she could 
not have borne one instant more of strain, then sit- 
ting opposite he adjusted the window to give her 
air. She seemed grateful but said nothing. Her 
eyes were closed wearily, and the whole droop of 
her figure showed utter exhaustion. It seemed a 
desecration to speak to her, yet he must have some 
kind of an understanding before they reached their 
destination. 

“ An explanation is due to you ” he began, 

without knowing just what he was going to say, 
but she put out her hand with a weary protest. 

5 


66 


THE BEST MAN 


“Oh, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I know — 1 
the boat was late! It doesn’t matter in the least.” 

He sat back appalled ! She did not herself know 
then that she had married the wrong man ! 

“ But you don’t understand,” he protested. 

“ Never mind,” she moaned. “ I don’t want to 
understand. Nothing can change things. Only, let 
me be quiet till we get to the house, or I never can 
go through with the rest of it.” 

Her words ended with almost a sob, and he sat 
silent for an instant, with a mingling of emotions, 
uppermost of which was a desire to take the little, 
white, shrinking girl into his arms and comfort her, 
“Nothing can change things!” That sounded as 
though she did know but thought it too late to undo 
the great mistake now that it had been made. He 
must let her know that he had not understood until 
the ceremony was over. While he sat helplessly 
looking at her in the dimness of the car where 
she looked so small and sad and misty huddled be- 
side her great bouquet, she opened her eyes and 
looked at him. She seemed to understand that he 
was about to speak again. By the great arc light 
they were passing he saw there were tears in her 
eyes again, and her voice held a child-like pleading 
as she uttered one word : 

“ Don’t! ” 


THE BEST MAN 


67 


It hurt him like a knif*. he knew not why. But 
he could not resist the appeal. Duty or no duty, he 
could not disobey her command. 

“Very well.” He said it quietly, almost ten- 
derly, and sat back with folded arms. After all, 
what explanation could he give her that she would 
believe ? He might not breathe a word of his com- 
mission or the message. What other reason could 
he give for his extraordinary appearance at her 
wedding and by her side? 

The promise in his voice seemed to give hef 
relief. She breathed a sigh of relief and closed 
her eyes. He must just keep still and have his 
eyes open for a chance to escape when the carriage 
reached its destination. 

Thus silently they threaded through unknown 
streets, strange thoughts in the heart of each. The 
bride was struggling with her heavy burden, and the 
man was trying to think his way out of the maze of 
perplexity into which he had unwittingly wandered. 
He tried to set his thoughts in order and find out just 
what to do. First of all, of course came his commis- 
sion, but somehow every time the little white bride 
opposite took first place in his mind. Could he serve 
both? What would serve both, and what would 
serve either ? As for himself, he was free to confess 


THE BEST MAN 


68 

that there was no room left in the present situation 
for even a consideration c . his own interests. 

Whatever there was of good in him must go now 
to set matters right in which he had greatly blun- 
dered. He must do the best he could for the girl 
who had so strangely crossed his pathway, and get 
back to his commission. But when he tried to real- 
ize the importance of his commission and set it over 
against the interests of the girl-bride, his mind be- 
came confused. What should he do ! He could not 
think of slipping away and leaving her without fur- 
ther words, even if an opportunity offered itself. 
Perhaps he was wrong. Doubtless his many friends 
might tell him so if they were consulted, but he did 
not intend to consult them. He intended to see this 
troubled soul to some place of safety, and look out 
for his commission as best he could afterward. 
One thing he did not fully realize, and that was 
that Miss Julia Bentley’s vision troubled him no 
longer. He was free. There was only one woman 
in the whole wide world that gave him any concern, 
and that was the little sorrowful creature who sat 
opposite to him, and to whom he had just been 
married. 

Just been married! He! The thought brought 
with it a thrill of wonder, and a something else that 
was not unpleasant. What if he really had? Of 


THE BEST MAN 


69 


course he had not. Of course such a thing could not 
hold good. But what if he had ! Just for an instant 
he entertained the thought — would he be glad or 
sorry? He did not know her, of course, had heard 
her speak but a few words, had looked into her face 
plainly but once, and yet suppose she were his ! His 
heart answered the question with a glad bound that 
astonished him, and all his former ideas of real 
love were swept from his mind in a breath. He 
knew that, stranger though she was, he could take 
her to his heart; cherish her, love her and bear with 
her, as he never could have done Julia Bentley. 
Then all at once he realized that he was allowing his 
thoughts to dwell upon a woman who by all that was 
holy belonged to another man, and that other man 
would doubtless soon be the one with whom he 
would have to deal. He would soon be face to face 
with a new phase of the situation and he must pre- 
pare himself to meet it. What was he going to do? 
Should he plan to escape from the opposite door 
of the automobile while the bride was being assisted 
from her seat? No, he could not, for he would be 
expected to get out first and help her out. Besides, 
there would be too many around, and he could not 
possibly get away. But, greater than any such 
reason, the thing that held him bound was the look 
in her eyes through the tears. He simply could not 


70 


THE BEST MAN 


leave her until he knew that she no longer needed 
him. And yet there was his commission! Well, 
he must see her in the hands of those who would 
care for her at least. So much he had done even 
for the white dog, and then, too, surely she was 
worth as many minutes of his time as he had been 
compelled to give to 1 the injured child of the streets. 
If he only could explain to her now! 

The thought of his message, with its terrible 
significance, safe in his possession, sent shivers of 
anxiety through his frame! Suppose he should be 
caught, and it taken from him, all on account of this 
most impossible incident! What scorn, what con- 
tumely, would be his ! How could he ever explain 
to his chief? Would anybody living believe that a 
man in his senses could be married to a stranger 
before a whole church full of people, and not know 
he was being married until the deed was done — and 
then not do anything about it after it was done?, 
That was what he was doing now this very minute. 
He ought to be explaining something somehow to 
that poor little creature in the shadow of the car- 
riage. Perhaps in some way it might relieve her 
sorrow if he did, and yet when he looked at her 
and tried to speak his mouth was hopelessly closed. 
He might not tell her anything ! 

He gradually sifted his immediate actions down 


THE BEST MAN 


71 


to two necessities; to get his companion to a safe 
place where her friends could care for her, and to 
make his escape as soon and as swiftly as possible. 
It was awful to run and leave her without telling 
her anything about it; when she evidently believed 
him to be the man she had promised and intended to 
marry; but the real bridegroom would surely turn 
up soon somehow and make matters right. Any- 
how, it was the least he could do to take himself out 
of her way, and to get his trust to its owners at once. 

The car halted suddenly before a brightly lighted 
mansion, whose tented entrance effectually shut out 
the gaze of alien eyes, and made the transit from 
car to domicile entirely private. There was no 
opportunity here to disappear. The sidewalk and 
road were black with curious onlookers. He stepped 
from the car first and helped the lady out. He bore 
her heavy bouquet because she looked literally too 
frail to carry it further herself. 

In the doorway she was surrounded by a bevy 
of servants, foremost among whom her old nurse 
claimed the privilege of greeting her with tears and 
smiles and many “ Miss-Celia-my-dears,” and Gor- 
don stood for the instant entranced, watching the 
sweet play of loving kindness in the face of the pale 
little bride. As soon as he could lay down those 
flowers inconspicuously he would be on the alert for 


7 £ 


THE BEST MAN 


a way of escape. It surely would be found through 
some back or side entrance of the house. 

But even as the thought came to him the old 
nurse stepped back to let the other servants greet 
the bride with stiff bows and embarrassed words of 
blessing, and he felt a hand laid heavily on his arm. 

He started as he turned, thinking instantly again 
of his commission and expecting to see a policeman 
in uniform by his side, but it was only the old nurse, 
with tears of devotion still in her faded eyes. 

“ Mister George, ye hevn’t forgot me, hev ye? ” 
she asked, earnestly. “ You usen’t to> like me verra 
well, I mind, but ye was awful for the teasin’ an’ I 
was always for my Miss Celie ! But bygones is by- 
gones now an’ I wish ye well. Yer growed a man, 
an’ I know ye must be worthy o’ her, or she’d never 
hev consented to take ye. Yev got a gude wife an’ 
no mistake, an’ I know ye’ll be the happiest man 
alive. Ye won’t hold it against me, Mister George, 
that I used to tell yer uncle on your masterful tricks, 
will ye? You mind I was only carin’ fer my baby 
girl, an’ ye were but a boy.” 

She paused as if expecting an answer, and Gor- 
don embarrassedly assured her that he would never 
think of holding so trifling a matter against her. 
He cast a look of reverent admiration and tender- 
ness toward the beautiful girl who was smiling 


THE BEST M4N 


73 


on her loyal subjects like a queen, roused from her 
sorrow to give joy to others ; and even her old nurse 
was satisfied. 

“ Ah, ye luve her, Mister George, don’t ye?” 
the nurse questioned. “ I don’t wonder. Every- 
body what lays eyes on her luves her. She’s that 

dear ” here the tears got the better of the good 

woman for an instant and she forgot herself and 
pulled at the skirt of her new black dress thinking 
it was an apron, and wishing to wipe her eyes. 

Then suddenly Gordon found his lips uttering 
strange words, without his own apparent consent, 
as if his heart had suddenly taken things in hand 
and determined to do as it pleased without consult- 
ing his judgment. 

“ Yes, I love her,” he was saying, and to his 
amazement he found that the words were true. 

This discovery made matters still more compli- 
cated. 

“ Then ye’ll promise me something, Mister 
George, won’t ye? ” said the nurse eagerly, her tears 
having their own way down her rosy anxious face. 
“ Ye’ll promise me never to make her feel bad any 
more? She’s cried a lot these last three months, an’ 
nobody knows but me. She could hide it from them 
all but her old nurse that has loved her so long. 
But she’s been that sorrowful, enough fer a whole 


74 


THE BEST MAN 


lifetime. Promise that ye’ll do all in yer power ta 
make her happy always.” 

“ I will do all in my power to make her happy,” 
he said, solemnly, as if he were uttering a vow, and 
wondered how short-lived that power was to be. 


CHAPTER V 


The wedding party had arrived in full force 
now. Carriages and automobiles were unloading; 
gay voices and laughter filled the house. The ser- 
vants disappeared to their places, and the white 
bride, with only a motioning look toward Gordon, 
led the way to the place where they were to stand 
under an arch of roses, lilies and palms, in a room 
hung from the ceiling with drooping ferns and white 
carnations on invisible threads of silver wire, until 
it all seemed like a fairy dream. 

Gordon had no choice but to follow, as his way 
was blocked by the incoming guests, and he foresaw 
that his exit would have to be made from some other 
door than the front if he were to escape yet awhile. 
As he stepped into the mystery of the flower-scented 
room where his lady led the way, he was conscious 
of a feeling of transition from the world of ordi- 
nary things into one of wonder, beauty and mysteri- 
ous joy ; but all the time he knew he was an impostor, 
who had no right in that silver-threaded bower. 

Yet there he stood bowing, shaking hands, and 
smirking behind his false mustache, which threat- 
ened every minute to betray him. 

People told him he was looking well, and con- 

75 


76 


THE BEST MAN 


gratulated him on his bride. Some said he was 
stouter than when he left the country, and some 
said he was thinner. They asked him questions 
about relatives and friends living and dead, and he 
ran constant risk of getting into hopeless difficul- 
ties. His only safety was in smiling, and saying 
very little ; seeming not to hear some questions, and 
answering others with another question. It was not 
so hard after he got started, because there were so 
many people, and they kept coming close upon one 
another, so no one had much time to talk. Then 
supper with its formalities was got through with 
somehow, though to Gordon, with his already satis- 
fied appetite and his hampering mustache, it seemed 
an endless ordeal. 

“ Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere, 
attending to everything, and he slipped up to the 
unwilling bridegroom just as he was having to 
answer a very difficult question about the lateness of 
his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experi- 
enced in crossing. By this time Gordon had dis- 
covered that he was supposed to have been ten years 
abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but 
where he came from or what he had been doing over 
there were still to be found out; and it was ex- 
tremely puzzling to be asked from what port he had 
sailed, and how he came to be there when he had 


THE BEST MAN 


77 


been supposed to have been in St. Petersburg b?ut 
the week before? His state of mind was anything 
but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just re- 
flecting that the last he had seen of his hat and coat 
was in the church. What had become of them, and 
how could he go to the station without a hat ? Then 
opportunely “ Jeff ” arrived. 

“ Your train leaves at ten three/’ he said in a 
low, business-like tone, as if he enjoyed the impor- 
tance of having made all the arrangements. “ I’ve 
secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and 
here are the tickets and checks. The trunks are 
down there all checked. Celia didn’t want any non- 
sense about their being tied up with white ribbon. 
She hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip 
out by the fire-escape and down through the back 
yard of the next neighbor, where a motor, just a 
plain regular one from the station, will be waiting 
around the corner in the shadow. Celia knows 
where it is. None of the party will know you are 
gone until you are well under way. The car they 
think you will take is being elaborately adorned with 
white at the front door now, but you won’t have 
any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up. 
Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as 
soon as Celia’s ready I’ll show you the way.” 

Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else 


78 


THE BEST MAN 


to do, but his countenance grew blank. Was there, 
then, to be no escape? Must he actually take an- 
other man’s bride with him in order to get away? 
And how was he to get away from her? Where 
was the real bridegroom and why did he not appear 
upon the scene? And yet what complications that 
might bring up. He began to look wildly about 
for a chance to flee at once, for how could he pos- 
sibly run away with a bride on his hands? If only 
some one were going with them to the station he 
could slip away with a clear conscience, leaving her 
in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and dis- 
tressed was out of the question. He had rid him- 
self of a lonely dog and a suffering child, though 
it gave him anguish to do the deed, but leave this 
lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have 
become responsible, he could not, until he was sure 
she would come to no harm through him. 

“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let 
anything hinder you ! ” 

It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for 
an instant since it began, but had chimed its changes 
through music, ceremony, prayer and reception with- 
out interruption. It acted like a goad upon his con- 
science now. He must do something that would 
set him free to go back to Washington. An in- 
spiration came to him. 


THE BEST MAN 


79 


“ Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with 
us ? ” he asked the young man. “I am sure your 
sister would like to have you.” 

The boy’s face lit up joyfully. 

“ Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully, 
and — if it’s all the same to you, I wish Mother could 
go too. It’s the first time Celia and she were ever 
separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have 
to say good-by with the house full of folks this 
way. But she doesn’t expect it of course, and 
really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen 
Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip ” 

“ There will be plenty of time for us,” said the 
compulsory bridegroom graciously, and felt as if 
he had perjured himself. It was not in his nature 
to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind. 

“ I shall be glad to have you both come,” he 
added earnestly. “I really want you. Tell your 
mother.” 

The boy grasped his hand impulsively: 

“ I say,” said he, “ you’re all right ! I don’t 
mind confessing that I’ve hated the very thought of 
you for a whole three months, ever since Celia told 
us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never 
really knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t 
used to like you. I took an awful scunner to you 
for some reason. I suppose kids often take irra- 


80 


THE BEST MAN 


tional dislikes like that But ever since I’ve 
laid eyes on you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way 
through. I like your eyes. It isn’t a bit as I thought 
I remembered you. I used to think your eyes had a 
sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it? , 
But I felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience, ( 
for I see now you’re nothing of the kind. You’ve 
got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man, and 
I’d stake my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a 
church mouse. You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty 
glad you’re my brother-in-law. I know you’ll be 
good to Celia.” 

The slow color mounted under his disguise until 
it reached Gordon’s burnished brown hair. His eyes 
were honest eyes. They had always been so — until 
to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered ! 
How he would like to make a clean breast of it all 
to this nice, frank boy; but he must not! for there 
was his trust! For an instant he was on the point 
of trying to explain that he was not the true bride- 
groom, and getting young Jefferson to help him to 
set matters right, but an influx of newly arrived 
guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could 
only press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed 
tones : 

“ Thank you ! I shall try to be worthy of your 
good opinion hereafter ! ” 


THE BEST MAN 


81 


It was over at last, and the bride slipped from 
his side to prepare for the journey. He looked has- 
tily around, feeling that his very first opportunity 
had come for making an escape. If an open window 
had presented itself, he would have vaulted through, 
trusting to luck and his heels to get away, but there 
was no window, and every door was blocked by star- 
ing, admiring, smirking people. He bethought him- 
self of the fire escape where waited his hat and coat, 
and wondered if he could find it. 

With smiling apologies, he broke away from 
those around him, murmuring something about be- 
ing needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily 
toward the stairs and thence to the back halls. Com- 
ing at last upon an open window, he slipped through, 
his heart beating wildly. He thought for a second 
that he was there ahead of the others ; but a dark 
form loomed ahead and he perceived some one com- 
ing up from outside. Another second, and he saw 
it was his newly acquired brother-in-law. 

“ Say, this is great ! ” was his greeting. “ How 
did you manage to find your way up alone ? I was 
just coming down after you. I wanted to leave you 
there till the last minute so no one would suspect, 
but now you are here we can hustle off at once. 
I just took Mother and Celia down. It was pretty 
stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little 
6 


82 


THE BEST MAN 


bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so 
pleased to go. They’re waiting for us down there 
in the court. Here, let me help you with your over- 
coat. Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one 
will suspect us and follow. That’s all right now, 
come on! You go ahead. Just hold on to the rail- 
ing and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know 
the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a 
year, and could climb down in my sleep.” 

Gordon found himself wishing that this delight- 
ful brother-in-law were really his. There was evi- 
dently to be no opportunity of escape here. He 
meditated making a dash and getting away in the 
dark when they should reach the foot of the stairs ; 
much as he hated to leave that way, he felt he must 
do so if there was any chance for him at all; but 
when they reached the ground he saw that was hope- 
less. The car that was to- take them to the station 
was drawn up close to the spot, and the chauffeur 
stood beside it. 

“ Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister 
Jefferson,” he called in a sepulchral tone. “ They’re 
coming out around the block to watch. Get in as 
quick as you can.” 

The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped 
him to alight on his feet from the fire-escape, and 
hustled him into the darkness of the conveyance. 


THE BEST MAN 


83 


They were very quiet until they had left the 
dark court and were speeding away down the avenue. 
Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle hands upon 
Gordon’s, leaning across from her seat to do so, 
and said : 

“ My son, I shall never forget this of you, never ! 
It was dear of you to give me this last few minutes 
with my darling ! ” 

Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for 
Words, mumbled something about being very glad 
to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation by 
pouring forth a volume of information and ques- 
tions, fortunately not pausing long enough to have 
the latter answered. The bride sat with one hand 
clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gor- 
don was haunted by the thought of tears in her eyes. 

There was little opportunity for thinking, but 
Gordon made a hasty plan. He decided to get his 
party all out to the train and then remember his suit- 
case, which he had left checked in the station. Jef- 
ferson would probably insist upon going for it but 
he would insist more strenuously that the brother 
and sister would want to have this last minute to- 
gether. Then he could get away in the crowd and 
disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps, 
or sending a porter from his own train for it. The 
only drawback to this arrangement was that it: 


84 


THE BEST MAN 


seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people 
who would in the nature of things be left in a most 
trying position by his disappearance, especially the 
sad little bride. But it could not be helped, and his 
staying would only complicate things still further, 
for he would have to explain who he was, and that 
was practically impossible on account of his commis- 
sion. It would not do to run risks with himself 
until his mission was accomplished and his message 
delivered. After that he could confess and make 
whatever reparation a man in his strange position 
could render. 

The plan worked very well. The brother of 
course eagerly urged that he be allowed to go back 
for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned 
thoughtfulness, said in a low tone: 

“ Your sister will want you for a minute all to 
herself.” 

A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he 
turned back smiling to the stateroom where his 
mother and sister were having a wordless farewell. 
Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down 
the platform, feeling meaner than he ever remem- 
bered to have felt in his whole life, and with a 
strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for 
the moment that there was need for him to be on 
his guard against possible detectives sent by Mr. 


THE BEST MAN 


85 


Holman. Even the importance of the message he 
carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free. 
His feet had a strange unwillingness to hurry, and 
without a constant pressure of the will would have 
lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let 
suit-case and commission and everything else go to 
the winds and take him back to the state-room where 
he had left his sorrowful bride of an hour. She 
was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that 
he would never be the same hereafter. He would 
always be wondering where she was, wishing he 
could have saved her from whatever troubled her; 
wishing she were his bride, and not another’s. 

He passed back through the station gate, and a 
man in evening clothes eyed him sharply. He 
fancied he saw a resemblance to one of the men 
at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look 
again lest a glance should cost him recognition. He 
wondered blindly which way he should take, and if 
it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking 
window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until 
he was sure young Jefferson would no longer look 
for him. Then a hand touched his shoulder and a 
voice that was strangely welcome shouted : 

“ This way, George ! The checking place is over 
to the right ! ” 


86 


THE BEST MAN 


He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling 
and panting: 

“ You see, the little mother had something to 
say to Celia alone, so I saw I was de trop , and 
thought I better come with you,” he declared as soon 
as he could get his breath. 

“ Gee, but you can run ! ” added the panting 
youth. “ What’s the hurry ? It’s ten whole minutes 
before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all that 
time kicking my heels on the platform, when I 
might be enjoying my new brother-in-law’s com- 
pany. I say, are you really going to live perma- 
nently in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come 
back to New York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end. 
I don’t know how she’s going to stand it.” 

Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, ap- 
parently not noticing the sudden start and look of 
mingled anxiety and relief that overspread his 
brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man 
walked by them and turning looked in their faces. 
Gordon was sure this was the thick-set man from 
Holman’s. He was eying Gordon keenly. Suddenly 
all other questions stepped into the background, and 
the only immediate matter that concerned him was 
his message, to get it safely to its destination. With 
real relief he saw that this had been his greatest 
concern all the time, underneath all hindrances, and 


THE BEST MAN 


87 


that there had hot been at any moment any escape 
from the crowding circumstances other than that he 
had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by 
thieves and blackguards, and thrown into prison for 
a time he would not have felt shame at the delay, for 
those things he could not help. He saw with new 
illumination that there was no more shame to him 
from these trivial and peculiar circumstances with 
which he had been hemmed in since his start to New 
Y ork than if he had been checked by any more tragic 
obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his 
marriage. Somehow it seemed his fault, and he 
felt there ought to be some way to confess his part 
at once — but how — without putting his message in 
jeopardy — for no one would believe unless they 
knew all. 

But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly 
saw. The man whom he dared not look closely at 
had turned again and was walking parallel to them, 
glancing now and again keenly in their direction. 
He was watching Gordon furtively; not a motion 
escaped him. 

There was a moment’s delay at the checking 
counter while the attendant searched for the suit- 
case, and Gordon was convinced that the man had 
stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose 
of watching him. 


88 


THE BEST MAN 


He dared not look around or notice the man, 
but he was sure he followed them back to the train. 
He felt his presence as clearly as if he had been 
able to see through the back of his head. 

But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was 
as if the experiences of the last two> hours, with their 
embarrassing predicaments, had been wiped off the 
calendar, and he were back at the moment when he 
left the Holman house. He knew as well as if he 
had watched them follow him that they had discov- 
ered his — theft — treachery — whatever it ought to* 
be called — and he was being searched for; and be- 
cause of what was at stake those men would track 
him to death if they could. But he knew also that 
his disguise and his companion were for the moment 
puzzling this sleuth-hound. 

This was probably not the only watcher about 
the station. There were detectives, too, perhaps, 
hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a suspect. 

He marvelled that lie could walk so deliberately, 
swinging his suit-case in his gloved hand at so 
momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily 
with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side, 
and answered his questions with very little idea of 
what he was saying; making promises which his 
heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no 
way of making good. 


THE BEST MAN 


89 


Thus they entered the train and came to the car 
where the bride and her mother waited. There were 
tears on the face of the girl, and she turned to the 
window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes followed her 
wistfully, and down through the double glass, un- 
noticed by her absent gaze, he saw the face of the 
man who had followed them, sharply watching him. 

Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he 
kept it on in spite of the presence of the ladies. 
The color rose in his cheeks that he had to seem so 
discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he 
insisted that he be allowed to take the elder lady to 
the platform, as it really was almost time for the 
train to start, and so he went deliberately out to act 
the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized 
foe. 

The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on 
the vestibule platform, while Jefferson bade his sister 
good-by and tried to soothe her distress at parting 
from her mother. 

“ He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the 
young fellow caressingly, laying his hand upon his 
sister’s bowed head. “ He’s going to be awfully 
good to you ; he cares a lot for you, and he’s prom- 
ised to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll 
bring you back soon, and he would never stand in 
the way of your being with us a lot. He did indeed ! 


90 


THE BEST MAN 


What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different 
from what you thought he would say? He doesn’t 
seem to think he’s got to spend the rest of his days 
in Chicago either. He says there might something 
turn up that would make it possible for him to 
change all his plans. Isn’t that great? ” 

Celia tried to look up and smile through her 
tears, while the man outside studied the situation 
a moment in perplexity and then strolled slowly back 
to watch Gordon and the elder woman. 

“ You will be good to my little girl,” he heard 
the woman’s voice pleading. “ She has always been 
guarded, and she will miss us all, even though she 
has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a 
knife. To stand much more of this and not de- 
nounce himself for a blackguard would be impos- 
sible. Neither could he keep his hat on in the pres- 
ence of this wonderful motherhood, a motherhood 
that appealed to him all the more that he had never 
known a mother of his own, and had always longed 
for one. 

He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly, 
guarding as much as possible his own face from 
the view of the man on the station platform, who 
was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and 
down, often passing near enough to hear what they 


THE BEST MAN 


91 


were saying. In this reverent attitude, Gordon 
said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow : 

“ I will guard her as if she were — as if I were — • 
as if I were — you ” — then he paused a moment and 
added solemnly, tenderly — “ Mother ! ” 

He wondered if it were not desecration to utter 
such words when all the time he was utterly unable 
to perform them in the way in which the mother 
meant “ Impostor! ” was the word which rang in 
his ears now. The clamor about being hindered had 
ceased, for he was doing his best, and not letting 
even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his 
duty. 

Yet his heart had dictated the words he had 
spoken, while his mind and judgment were busy 
with his perilous position. He could not gainsay 
his heart, for he felt that in every way he could 
he would guard and care for the girl who was to be 
in his keeping at least for a few minutes until he 
could contrive some way to get her back to her 
friends without him. 

The whistle of the train was sounding now, and 
the brakemen were shouting, “ All aboard ! 99 

He helped the frail little elderly woman down the 
steps, and she reached up her face to kiss him. He 
bent and took the caress, the first time that a 


92 


THE BEST MAN 


woman’s lips had touched his face since he was a 
little child. 

“ Mother, I will not let anything harm her,” 
he whispered, and she said : 

“ My boy, I can trust you ! ” 

Then he put her into the care of her strong 
young son, swung upon the train as the wheels 
began to move, and hurried back to the bride. On 
the platform, walking beside the train, he still saw 
the man. Going to the weeping girl, Gordon stooped 
over her gently, touched her on the shoulder, and 
drew the window shade down. The last face he 
saw outside was the face of the baffled man, who 
was turning back, but what for? Was he going 
to report to others, and would there perhaps be an- 
other stop before they left the city, where officers 
or detectives might board the train? He ought to 
be ready to get off and run for his life if there was. 
There seemed no way but to fee the porter to look 
after his companion, and leave her, despicable as 
it seemed! Yet his soul of honor told him he could 
never do that, no matter what was at stake. 

Then, without warning a new situation was 
thrust upon him. The bride, who had been stand- 
ing with bowed head and with her handkerchief up 
to her eyes, just as her brother had left her, tottered 
and fell into his arms, limp and white. Instantly 


THE BEST MAN 


93 


all his senses were called into action, and he forgot 
the man on the platform, forgot the possible next 
stop in the city, and the explanation he had been 
about to make to the girl; forgot even the impor- 
tance of his mission, and the fact that the train he 
was on was headed toward Chicago, instead of 
Washington; forgot everything but the fact that the 
loveliest girl he had ever seen, with the saddest look 
a human face might wear, was lying apparently life- 
less in his arms. 

Outside the window the man had turned back 
and was now running excitedly along with the train 
trying to see into the window; and down the plat- 
form, not ten yards behind, came a frantic man with 
English-looking clothes, a heavy mustache and 
goatee, shaggy eyebrows, and a sensual face, strid- 
ing angrily along as fast as his heavy body would 
carry him. 

But Gordon saw none of them. 


CHAPTER VI 


Five hours before, the man who was hurling 
himself furiously after the rapidly retreating train 
had driven calmly through the city, from the pier of 
the White Star Line to the apartment of a man 
whom he had met abroad, and who had offered him 
the use of it during his absence. The rooms were 
in the fourth story of a fine apartment house. The 
returning exile noted with satisfaction the irre- 
proachable neighborhood, as he slowly descended 
from the carriage, paid his fee, and entered the door, 
to present his letter of introduction to the janitor 
in charge. 

His first act was to open the steamer trunk 
which he had brought with him in the cab, and take 
therefrom his wedding garments. These he care- 
fully arranged on folding hangers and hung in the 
closet, which was otherwise empty save for a few 
boxes piled on the high shelf. 

Then he hastened to the telephone and com- 
municated with his best man, Jefferson Hathaway; 
told him the boat was late arriving at the dock, but 
that he was here at last; gave him a few directions 
concerning errands he would like to have done, and 
agreed tq be at the church a half-hour earlier than 
94 


;the best man 


95 


the time set for the ceremony, to be shown just 
what arrangements had been made. He was told 
that his bride was feeling very tired and was resting, 
and agreed that it would be as well not to disturb 
her; they would have time enough to talk after- 
wards ; there really wasn’t anything to say but what 
he had already written. And he would have about 
all he could do to get there on time as it was. * He 
asked if Jefferson had called for the ring he had 
ordered and if the carriage would be sent for him in 
time and then without formalities closed the inter- 
view. He and Jefferson were not exactly fond of 
one another, though Jefferson was the beloved 
brother of his bride-to-be. 

He hung up the receiver and rang for a brandy 
and soda to brace himself for the coming ordeal 
which was to bind to him a woman whom for years 
he had been trying to get in his power and whom 
he mighl; have loved if she had not dared to scorn 
him for the evil that she knew was in him. At 
last he had found a way to subdue her and bring 
her with her ample fortune to his feet and he felt 
the exultation of the conqueror as he went about his 
preparations for the evening. 

He made a smug and leisurely toilet, with a 
smile of satisfaction upon his flabby face. He was 
naturally a selfish person and had always known how 


96 


THE BEST MAN 


to make other people attend to all bothersome de- 
tails for him while he enjoyed himself. He was 
quite comfortable and self-complacent as he posed 
a moment before the mirror to smooth his mustache 
and note how well he was looking. Then he went 
to the closet for his coat. 

It was most peculiar, the way it happened, but 
somehow, as he stepped into that closet to take down 
his coat, which hung at the back where the space 
was widest, the opening at the wrist of his shirt- 
sleeve caught for just an instant in the little knob 
of the closet latch. The gold button which held 
the cuff to the wristband slipped its hold, and the 
man was free almost at once, but the angry twitch 
he had made at the slight detention had given the 
door an impetus which set it silently moving on its 
hinges. (It was characteristic of George Hayne 
that he was always impatient of the slightest deten- 
tion. ) He had scarcely put his hand upon his wed- 
ding coat when a soft steel click, followed by utter 
darkness, warned him that his impatience had en- 
trapped him. He put out his hand and pushed at the 
door, but the catch had settled into place. It was a 
very strong, neat little catch, and it did its work well. 
The man was a prisoner. 

At first he was only annoyed, and gave the door 
an angry kick or two, as if of course it would pres- 


THE BEST MAN 


07 


ently release him meekly; but then he bethought 
him of his polished wedding shoes, and desisted. 
He tried to find a knob and shake the door, but the 
only knob was the tiny brass one on the outside of 
the catch, and you cannot shake a plain surface 
reared up before you. Then he set his massive, 
flabby shoulder against the door and pressed with 
all his might, till his bulky linen shirt front creaked 
with dismay, and his wedding collar wilted limply. 
But the door stood like adamant. It was massive, 
like the man, but it was not flabby. The wood of 
which it was composed had spent its early life in the 
open air, drinking only the wine of sunshine and 
sparkling air, wet with the dews of heaven, and 
exercising against the north blast. It was nothing 
for it to hold out against this pillow of a man, who 
had been nurtured in the dissipation and folly of 
a great city. The door held its own, and if doors 
do such things, the face of it must have laughed to 
the silent room; and who knows but the room 
winked back ? It would be but natural that a room 
should resent a new occupant in the absence of a 
beloved owner. 

He was there, safe and fast, in the still dark, 
with plenty of time for reflection. And there were 
things in his life that called for his reflection. They 
had never had him at an advantage before. 

7 


THE BEST MAN 


98 

In due course of time, having exhausted his 
breath and strength in fruitless pushing, and his 
vocabulary in foolish curses, he lifted up his voice 
and roared. No other word would quite describe 
the sound that issued from his mighty throat. But 
the city roared placidly below him, and no one 
minded him in the least. 

He sacrificed the shiny toes of the shoes and 
added resounding kicks on the door to the general 
hubbub. He changed the roar to a bellow like a 
mad bull, but still the silence that succeeded it was 
as deep and monotonous as ever. He tried going 
to the back of the closet and hurling himself against 
the door, but he only hurt his soft muscles with the 
effort. Finally he sat down on the floor of the closet. 

Now, the janitor’s wife, who occupied an apart- 
ment somewhat overcrowded, had surreptitiously 
borrowed the use of this closet the week before, in 
order to hang therein her Sunday gown, whose front 
breadth was covered with grease-spots, thickly over- 
laid with French chalk. The French chalk had done 
its work and removed the grease-spots, and now 
lay thickly on the floor of the closet, but the im- 
prisoned bridegroom did not know that, and he sat 
down quite naturally to rest from his unusual exer- 
tions, and to reflect on what could be done next. 

The immediate present passed rapidly in review. 


THE BEST MAN 


99 


He could not afford more than ten minutes to get out 
of this hole. He ought to be on the way to the 
church at once. There was no knowing what non- 
sense Celia might get into her head if he delayed. 
He had known her since her childhood, and she had 
always scorned him. The hold he had upon her 
now was like a rope of sand, but only he knew that. 
If he could but knock that old door down! If he 
only hadn’t hung up his coat in the closet! If the 
man who built the house only hadn’t put such a fool 
catch on the door ! When he got out he would take 
time to chop it off! If only he had a little more 
room, and a little more air ! It was stifling ! Great 
beads of perspiration went rolling down his hot 
forehead, and his wet collar made a cool band about 
his neck. He wondered if he had another clean col- 
lar of that particular style with him. If he only 
could get out of this accursed place! Where were 
all the people ? Why was everything so still ? Would 
they never come and let him out? 

He reflected that he had told the janitor he 
would occupy the room with his baggage for two 
or three weeks perhaps, but he expected to go away 
on a trip this very evening. The janitor would not 
think it strange if he did not appear. How would 
it be to stay here and die ? Horrible thought ! 

He jumped up from the floor and began his 


100 


THE BEST MAN 


howlings and gyrations once more, but soon desisted, 
and sat down to be entertained by a panorama of 
his past life which is always unpleasantly in evi- 
dence at such times. Fine and clear in the darkness 
of the closet stood out the nicely laid scheme of 
deviltry by which he had contrived to be at last 
within reach of a coveted fortune. 

Occasionally would come the frantic thought 
that just through this little mishap of a foolish 
clothespress catch he might even yet lose it. The 
fraud and trickery by which he had an heiress in 
his power did not trouble him so much as the thought 
of losing her — at least of losing the fortune. He 
must have that fortune, for he was deep in debt, 
and — ‘but then he would refuse to think, and get up 
to batter at his prison door again. 

Four hours his prison walls enclosed him, with 
inky blackness all around save for a faint glimmer 
of light, which marked the well-fitted base of the 
door as the night outside drew on. He had lighted 
the gas when he began dressing, for the room had 
already been filled with shadows, and now, it began 
to seem as if that streak of flickering gas light was 
the only thing that saved him from losing his mind. 

Somewhere from out of the dim shadows a face 
evolved itself and gazed at him, a haggard face with 
piercing hollow eyes and despair written upon it 


THE BEST MAN 


101 


It reproached him with a sin he thought long-forgot- 
ten. He shrank back in horror and the cold per- 
spiration stood out upon his forehead, for the eyes 
were the eyes of the man whose name he had forged 
upon a note involving trust money fifteen years be- 
fore; and the man, a quiet, kindly, unsuspecting 
creature had suffered the penalty in a prison cell until 
his death some five years ago. 

Sometimes at night in the first years after his 
crime, that face had haunted him, appearing at odd 
intervals when he was plotting some particularly 
shady means of adding to his income, until he had 
resolved to turn over a new leaf, and actually gave 
up one or two schemes as being too unscrupulous 
to be indulged in, thus acquiring a comforting feel- 
ing of being virtuous. But it was long since the 
face had come. He had settled it in his mind that 
the forgery was merely a patch of wild oats which 
he had sown in his youth, something to be regretted 
but not too severely blamed for, and thus forgiving 
himself he had grown to feel that it was more the 
world’s fault for not giving him what he wanted 
than his own for putting a harmless old man in 
prison. Of the shame that had killed the old man he 
knew nothing, nor could have understood. The 
actual punishment itself was all that appealed to 
him. He was ever one that had to be taught with 


102 


THE BEST MAN 


the lash, and then only kept straight while it was in 
sight. 

But the face was very near and vivid here in the 
thick darkness. It was like a cell, this closet, bare, 
cold, black. The eyes in the gloom seemed to pierce 
him with the thought : “ This is what you made me 
suffer. It is your turn now. It is your turn now ! ” 
Nearer and nearer they came looking into his own, 
until they saw down into his very soul, his little sin- 
ful soul, and drew back appalled at the littleness 
and meanness of what they saw. 

Then for the first time in his whole selfish life 
George Hayne knew any shame, for the eyes read 
forth to him all that they had seen, and how it looked 
to them ; and beside the tale they told the eyes were 
clean of sin and almost glad in spite of suffering 
wrongfully. 

Closer and thicker grew the air of the small 
closet; fiercer grew the rage and shame and horror 
of the man incarcerated. 

Now, from out the shadows there looked other 
eyes, eyes that had never haunted him before; eyes 
of victims to whom he had never cast a half a 
thought. Eyes of men and women he had robbed 
by his artful, gentlemanly craft; eyes of innocent 
girls whose wrecked lives had contributed to his 
selfish scheme of living; even the great reproachful 


THE BEST MAN 


103 


eyes of little children who had looked to him for pity 
and found none. Last, above them all were the eyes 
of the lovely girl he was to have married. 

He had always loved Celia Hathaway more 
than he could have loved anyone or anything else 
besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being 
that he never could make her bow to him ; not even 
by torture could he bring her to her knees. Stung 
by the years of her scorn he had stooped lower and 
lower in his methods of dealing with her until he 
had come at last to employ the tools of slow torture 
to her soul that he might bring low her pride and 
put her fortune and her scornful self within his 
power. The strength with which she had withheld 
him until the time of her surrender had turned his 
selfish love into a hate with contemplations of 
revenge. 

But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed 
round with bridal white, and seemed to taunt him 
with his foolish defeat at this the last minute before 
the final triumph. 

Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone 
to his head. Was he going mad that he could not 
get away from all these terrible eyes? 

He felt sure he was dying when at last the jani- 
tor came up to the fourth floor on his round of in- 
spection, noticed the light flaring from the transom 


104 


THE BEST MAN 


over the door occupied by the stranger who had 
said he was going to leave on a trip almost immedi- 
ately, and went in to investigate. The eyes van- 
ished at his step. The man in the closet lost no 
time in making his presence known, and the janitor, 
cautiously, and with great deliberation made careful 
investigation of the cause and reason for this dis- 
turbance and finally let him out, after having re- 
ceived promise of reward which never materialized. 

The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic 
haste, called up the house of his affianced bride, 
shouting wildly at the operator for all undue delays, 
and when finally he succeeded in getting some one 
to the ’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs. 
Hathaway nor her son were there. Were they at 
the church ? “ Oh, no,” the servant answered, “ they 
came back from the church long ago. There is a 
wedding in the house, and a great many people. 
They are making so much noise I can’t hear. Speak 
louder please ! ” 

He shouted and raved at the servant, asking 
futile questions and demanding information, but 
the louder he raved the less the servant understood 
and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about 
the room like an insane creature, tearing off his 
wilted collar, grabbing at another, jerking on his 
fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs, snatching 


THE BEST MAN 


105 


his hat and overcoat, and making off down the 
stairs ; breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the 
janitor for the fee of freedom he had been promised. 

Out in the street he rushed hither and thither 
blindly in search of some conveyance, found a taxi- 
cab at last, and, plunging in, ordered it to go at 
once to the Hathaway address. 

Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spec- 
tacle to the guests, who were still making merry. 
His trousers were covered with French chalk, his 
collar had slipped from its confining button in front 
and curved gracefully about one fat cheek, his high 
hat was a crush indeed, having been rammed down 
to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast 
and so loud that they thought he was crazy and 
tried to put him out, but he shook his fist angrily 
in the face of the footman and demanded to know 
where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him 
she was married and gone, he turned livid with 
wrath and told them that that was impossible, as 
he was the bridegroom. 

By this time the guests had gathered in curious 
groups in the hall and on the stairs, listening, and 
when he claimed to be the bridegroom they shouted 
with laughter, thinking this must be some practical 
joke or else that the man was insane. But one older 


106 


THE BEST MAN 


gentleman, a friend of the family, stepped up to the 
excited visitor and said in a quieting voice : 

“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss 
Hathaway has this evening been married to Mr. 
George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they 
are at this moment on their way to take the train. 
You have come too late to see her, or else you have 
the wrong address, and are speaking of some other 
Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explana- 
tion.’ " 

George looked around on the company with 
helpless rage, then rushed to his taxicab and gave 
the order for the station. 

Arriving at the station, he saw it was within half 
a minute of the departure of the Chicago train, and 
none knew better than he what time that train had 
been going to depart. Had he not given minute 
directions regarding the arrangements to his future 
brother-in-law? What did it all mean anyway? 
Had Celia managed somehow to carry out the wed- 
ding without him to hide her mortification at his 
non-appearance? Or had she run away? He was 
too excited to use his reason. He could merely urge 
his heavy bulk onward toward the fast fleeting train ; 
and dashed up the platform, overcoat streaming 
from his arm, coat-tails flying, hat crushed down 
upon his head, his fat, bechalked legs rumbling heav- 


THE BEST MAN 


107 


ily after him. He passed Jefferson and his mother; 
watching tearfully, lingeringly, the retreating train. 
Jefferson laughed at the funny spectacle, but the 
mother did not notice and on^y said absently : “ I 
think he’ll be good to her, don’t you, Jeff? He has 
nice eyes. I don’t remember that his eyes used to 
seem so pleasant, and so — deferential.” Then they 
turned to go back to their car, and the train moved 
faster and faster out of the station. It would pres- 
ently rush away out into the night, leaving the two 
pursuers to face each other, baffled. 

Both realized this at the same instant and the 
short, thick-set man with sudden decision turned 
again and plunging along with the train caught at 
the rail and swung himself with dangerous precipi- 
tation to the last platform of the last car with a 
half-frightened triumph. Looking back he saw the 
other man with a frantic effort sprint forward, 
trying to do the same thing, and failing in the 
attempt, sprawl flat on the platform, to the intense 
amusement of a couple of trainmen standing near. 

George Hayne, having thus come to a full stop 
in his headlong career, lay prostrate for a moment, 
stunned and shaken; then gathered himself up slowly 
and stood gazing after the departing train. After 
all, if he had caught it what could he have done? It 
was incredible that Celia could have got herself mar- 


108 


THE BEST MAN 


ried and gone on her wedding trip without him. If 
she had eloped with some one else and they were on 
that train what could he have done ? Kill the bride- 
groom and force the bride to return with him and 
be married over again? Yes, but that might have 
been a trifle awkward after all, and he had enough 
awkward situations to his account already. Be- 
sides, it wasn’t in the least likely that Celia was mar- 
ried yet. Those people at the house had been fooled 
somehow, and she had run away. Perhaps her 
mother and brother were gone with her. The same 
threats that had made her bend to him once should 
follow her wherever she had gone. She would 
marry him yet and pay for this folly a hundred fold. 
He lifted a shaking hand of execration toward the 
train which by this time was vanishing into the dark 
opening at the end of the station, where signal lights 
like red berries festooned themselves in an arch 
against the blackness, and the lights of the last car 
paled and vanished like a forgotten dream. 

Then he turned and hobbled slowly back to the 
gates regardless of the merriment he was arousing 
in the genial trainmen ; for he was spent and bruised, 
and his appearance was anything but dignified. No 
member of the wedding company had they seen him 
at this juncture would have recognized in him any 
resemblance to the handsome gentleman who had 


THE BEST MAN 


109 


played his part in the wedding ceremony. No one 
would have thought it possible that he could be 
Celia Hathaway’s bridegroom. 

Slowly back to the gate he crept, haggard, dis- 
hevelled, crestfallen; his hair in its several isolated 
locks downfallen over his forehead, his collar wilted, 
his clothes smeared with chalk and dust, his over- 
coat dragging forlornly behind him. He was trying 
to decide what to do next, and realizing the torment 
of a perpetual thirst, when a hand was laid suddenly 
upon him and a voice that somehow had a familiar 
twang, said : “ You will come with me, sir.” 

He looked up and there before him in the flesh 
were the eyes of the man who had haunted him for 
years, the very eyes grown younger, and filled with 
more than reproach. They were piercing him with 
the keenness of retribution. They said, as plainly as 
those eyes in the closet had spoken but a brief hour 
before: “ Your time is over. My time has come. 
t You have sinned. You shall suffer. Come now 
and meet your reward.” 

He started back in horror. His hands trembled 
and his brain reeled. He wished for another cock- 
tail to help him to meet this most extraordinary 
emergency. Surely, something had happened to his 
nerves that he was seeing these eyes in reality, and 
hearing the voice, that old man’s voice made young. 


no 


THE BEST MAN 


bidding him come with him. It could not be, of 
course. He was unnerved with all he had been 
through. The man had mistaken him for some one 
* — or perhaps it was not a man after all. He glanced 
quickly around to see if others saw him, and at once 
became aware that a crowd was collecting about 
them. 

The man with the strange eyes and the familiar 
voice was dressed in plain clothes, but he seemed to 
have full assurance that he was a real live man and 
had a right to dictate. George Hayne could not 
shake away his grasp. There was a determination 
about it that struck terror to his soul, and he had 
a weak desire to scream and hide his eyes. Could 
he be coming down with delirium tremens? That 
brandy must have been unusually strong to have 
lasted so long in its effects. Then he made a weak 
effort to speak, but his voice sounded small and 
frightened. The eyes took his assurance from him, 

“ Who are you ? ” he asked, and meant to add, 1 
“ What right have you to dictate to me? ” but the 
words died away in his throat, for the plainclothes 
man had opened his coat and disclosed a badge that 
shone with a sinister light straight into his eyes. 

tf I am Norman Brand,” answered the voice, 

“ and I want you for what you did to my father. 
It is time you paid your debt. You were the cause 


/ 


THE BEST MAN 


111 


of his humiliation and death. I have been watching 
for you for years. I saw the notice of your wedding 
in the paper and was tracking you. It was for this 
3 entered the service. Come with me.” 

With a cry of horror George Hayne wrenched 
away from his captor and turned to flee, but in- 
stantly three revolvers were levelled at him, and 
he found that two policemen in brass buttons were 
stationed behind him, and the crowd closed in about 
him. Wherever he turned it was to look into the 
barrel of a gun, and there was no escape in any 
direction. 

They led him away to the patrol wagon, the erst- 
while bridegroom, and in place of the immaculate 
linen he had searched so frantically for in his apart- 
ment they put upon his wrists cuffs of iron. They 
put him in a cell and left him with eyes of the old 
man for company and the haunting likeness of his 
son’s voice filling him with frenzy. The unquench- 
able thirst came upon him and he begged for brandy 
and soda, but none came to slake his thirst, for he 
had crossed the great gulf and justice at last had him 
in her grasp. 


CHAPTER VII 


Meantime the man on the steps of the last car 
of the Chicago Limited was having his doubts about 
whether he ought to have boarded that train. He 
realized that the fat traveller who was hurling him- 
self after the train had stirred in him a sudden 
impulse which had been only half formed before 
and he had obeyed it. Perhaps he was following a 
wrong scent and would lose the reward which he 
knew was his if he brought the thief of the code- 
writing, dead or alive, to his employer. He was 
half inclined to jump off again now before it was 
too late ; but looking down he saw they were already 
speeding over a network of tracks, and trains were 
flying by in every direction. By the time they were 
out of this the speed would be too great for him to 
attempt a jump. It was even now risky, and he 
was heavy for athletics. He must do it at once if 
he did it at all. 

He looked ahead tentatively to see if the track 
on which he must jump was clear, and the great eye 
of an engine stabbed him in the face, as it bore 
down upon him. The next instant it swept by, its 
hot breath fanning his cheek, and he drew back 
shuddering involuntarily. It was of no use. He 
112 


THE BEST MAN 


113 


could not jump here. Perhaps they would slow up 
or stop, and anyway, should he jump or stay on 
board? 

He sat down on the upper step the better to get 
the situation in hand. Perhaps in a minute more 
the way would be clearer to jump off if he decided 
not to go on. Thus he vacillated. It was rather 
unlike him not to know his own mind. 

It seemed as if there must be something here to 
follow, and yet, perhaps he was mistaken. He had 
been the first man of the company at the front door 
after Mr. Holman turned the paper over, and 
they all had noticed the absence of the red mark. 
It had been simultaneous with the clicking of 
the door-latch and he had covered the ground 
from his seat to the door sooner than anyone 
else. He could swear he had seen the man get into 
the cab that stood almost in front of the house. 
He had lost no time in getting into his own car 
which was detailed for such an emergency, and in 
signalling the officer on a motor cycle who was also 
ready for a quick call. The carriage had barely 
turned the corner when they followed, there was 
no other of the kind in sight either way but that, 
and he had followed it closely. It must have been 
the right carriage. And yet, when the man got 
out at the church he was changed, much changed 
8 


114 


THE BEST MAN 


in appearance, so that he had looked twice into the 
empty carriage to make sure that the man for whom 
he searched was not still in there hiding. Then he 
had followed him into the church and seen him mar- 
ried ; stood close at hand when he put his bride into 
a big car, and he had followed the car to the house 
where the reception was held; even mingling with 
the guests and watching until the bridal couple left 
for the train. He had stood in the alley in the 
shadow, the only one of the guests who had found 
how the bride was really going away, and again he 
had followed to the station. 

He had walked close enough to the bridegroom 
in the station to be almost sure that mustache and 
those heavy eyebrows were false; and yet he could 
not make it ouf. How could it be possible that a 
man who was going to be married in a great church 
full of fashionable people would so dare to flirt with 
chance as to accept an invitation to a dinner where 
he might not be able to get away for hours ? What 
would have happened if he had not got there in 
time? Was it in the least possible that these two 
men could be identical? Everything but the like- 
ness and the fact that he had followed the man so 
closely pointed out the impossibility. 

The thick-set man was accustomed to trust his 
inner impressions thoroughly, and in this case his 


THE BEST MAN 


115 


inner impression was that he must watch this pecu- 
liar bridegroom and be sure he was not the right 
man before he forever got away from him — and 
yet — and yet, he might be missing the right man by 
doing it. However, he had come so far, had risked, 
a good deal already in following and in throwing* 
himself on that fast moving train. He would stay 
a little longer and find out for sure. He would try 
and get a seat where he could watch him and in an 
hour he ought to be able to tell if he were really 
the man who had stolen the code- writing. If he 
could avoid the conductor for a time he would 
simply profess to have taken the wrong train by 
mistake and maybe could get put off somewhere near 
home, in case he discovered that he was barking 
up the wrong tree. He would stick to the train for 
a little yet, inasmuch as there seemed no safe way 
of getting off at present. 

Having decided so much, he gave one last glance 
toward the twinkling lights of the city hurrying past, 
and getting up sauntered into the train, keeping a 
weather eye out for the conductor. He meant to 
burn no bridges behind him. He was well provided 
with money for any kind of a trip and mileage books 
and passes. He knew where to send a telegram 
that would bring him instant assistance in case of 
need, and even nc w he knew the officer on the motor- 


116 


THE BEST MAN 


cycle had reported to his employer that he had 
boarded this train. There was really no immediate 
need for him to worry. It was big game he was 
after and one must take some risks in a case of that 
sort. Thus he entered the sleeper to make good the 
impression of his inner senses. 

Gordon had never held anything so precious, so 
sweet and beautiful and frail-looking, in his arms. 
He had a feeling that he ought to lay her down, yet 
there was a longing to draw her closer to himself 
and shield her from everything that could trouble 
her. 

But she was not his — only a precious trust to be 
guarded and cared for as vigilantly as the message 
he carried hidden about his neck; she belonged to 
another, somewhere, and was a sacred trust until 
circumstances made it possible for him to return 
her to her rightful husband. Just what all this 
might mean to himself, to the woman in his arms, 
and to the man whom she was to have married, 
Gordon had not as yet had time to think. It was 
as if he had been watching a moving picture and 
suddenly a lot of circumstances had fallen in a 
heap and become all jumbled up together, the result 
of his own rash but unsuspecting steps, the way 
whole families have in moving pictures of falling 


THE BEST MAN 


117 


through a sky-scraper from floor to floor, carrying 
furniture and inhabitants with them as they descend. 

He had not as yet been able to disentangle himself 
from the debris and find out what had been his 
fault and what he ought to do about it. 

He laid her gently on the couch of the draw- 
ing-room and opened the little door of the private 
dressing-room. There would be cold water in there. 

He knew very little about caring for sick people 
— he had always been well and strong himself — 
but cold water was what they used for people who 
had fainted, he was sure. He would not call in any- 
one to help, unless it was absolutely necessary. He 
pulled the door of the stateroom shut, and went after 
the water. As he passed the mirror, he started at 
the curious vision of himself. One false eyebrow 
had come loose and was hanging over his eye, and 
his goatee was crooked. Had it been so all the 
time? He snatched the eyebrow off, and then the 
other; but the mustache and goatee were more 
tightly affixed, and it was very painful to remove 
them. He glanced back, and the white, limp look 
of the girl on the couch frightened him. What was 
he about, to stop over his appearance when she might 
be dying, and as for pain — he tore the false hair 
roughly from him, and, stuffing it into his pocket, 
filled a glass with water and went back to the couch. 


118 


THE BEST MAN 


His chin and upper lip smarted, but he did not notice 
it, nor know that the mark of the plaster was all 
about his face. He only knew that she lay there 
apparently lifeless before him, and he must bring 
the soul back into those dear eyes. It was strange, 
wonderful, how his feeling had grown for the girl 
whom he had never seen till three hours before. 

He held the glass to her white lips and tried 
to make her drink, then poured water on his hand- 
kerchief and awkwardly bathed her forehead. Some 
hairpins slipped loose and a great wealth of golden- 
brown hair fell across his knees as he half knelt be- 
side her. One little hand drooped over the side of 
the couch and touched his. He started ! It seemed 
so soft and cold and lifeless. 

He blamed himself that he had no remedies in 
his suit-case. Why had he never thought to carry 
something, — a simple restorative? Other people 
might need it though he did not. No man ought to 
travel without something for the saving of life in 
an emergency. He might have needed it himself 
even, in case of a railroad accident or something. 

He slipped his arm tenderly under her head and 
tried to raise it so that she could drink, but the 
white lips did not move nor attempt to swallow. 

Then a panic seized him. Suppose she was 
dying? Not until later, when he had quiet and 


THE BEST MAN 


119 


opportunity for thought, did it occur to him what 4 
terrible responsibility he had dared to take upon 
himself in letting her people leave her with him; 
what a fearful position he would have been in if she 
had really died. At the moment his whole thought 
was one of anguish at the idea of losing her ; anxiety 
to save her precious life; and not for himself. 

Forgetting his own need of quiet and obscurity, 
he laid her gently back upon the couch again, and 
rushed from the stateroom out into the aisle of the 
sleeper. The conductor was just making his rounds 
and he hurried to him with a white face. 

“ Is there a doctor on board, or have you any 

restoratives? There is a lady ” He hesitated 

and the color rolled freshly into his anxious face. 
“ That is — my wife.” He spoke the word unwill- 
ingly, having at the instant of speaking realized that 
he must say this to protect her good name. It seemed 
like uttering a falsehood, or stealing another man’s 
property; and yet, technically, it was true, and for 
her sake at least he must acknowledge it. 

“ My wife,” he began again more connectedly, 
** is ill — unconscious.” 

The conductor looked at him sharply. He had 
sized them up as a wedding party when they came 
'down the platform toward the train. The young 
man’s blush confirmed his supposition. 


120 


THE BEST MAN 


“ I’ll see ! ” he said briefly. “ Go back to her and 
I’ll bring some one.” 

It was just as Gordon turned back that the thick- 
set man entered the car from the other end and met 
him face to face, but Gordon was too distraught at 
that moment to notice him, for his mind was at rest 
about his pursuer as soon as the train started. 

Not so with the pursuer however. His keen little 
eyes took in the white, anxious face, the smear of 
sticking plaster about the mouth and eyebrows, 
and instantly knew his man. His instincts had not 
failed him after all. 

He put out a pair of brawny fists to catch at 
him, but a lurch of the train and Gordon’s swift 
stride out-purposed him, and by the time the little 
man had righted his footing Gordon was disappear- 
ing into the stateroom, and the conductor with an- 
other man was in the aisle behind him waiting to 
pass. He stepped back and watched. At least he 
had driven his prey to quarry and there was no pos- 
sible escape now until the train stopped. He would 
watch that door as a cat watches a mouse, and per- 
haps be able to send a telegram for help before he 
made any move at all. It was as well that his im- 
pulse to take the man then and there had come to 
naught. What would the other passengers have 
thought of him? He must of course move catt* 


THE BEST MAN 


121 


tiously. What a blunder he had almost made. It 
was no part of his purpose to make public his errand. 
The men who were behind him did not wish to be 
known, nor to have their business known. 

With narrowing eyes he watched the door of the 
stateroom as the conductor and doctor came and 
went. He gathered from a few questions asked 
by one of the passengers that there was some one 
sick, probably the lady he had seen faint as the 
train started. It occurred to him that this might 
be his opportunity, and when the conductor came 
out of the drawing-room the second time he in- 
quired if any assistance was needed, and implied that 
doctoring was his profession, though it would be 
a sorry patient that had only his attention. How- 
ever, if he had one accomplishment it was bluffing, 
and he never stopped at any profession that suited 
his needs. 

The conductor was annoyed at the interruptions 
that had already occurred and he answered him 
brusquely that they had all the help necessary and 
there wasn’t anything the matter anyway. 

There was nothing left for the man to do but 
wait. 

He subsided with his eye on the stateroom door, 
and later secured a berth in plain sight of that door, 
but gave no order to have it made up until every 


in 


THE BEST MAN 


other passenger in the car was gone to what rest 
a sleeping car provides. He kept his vigil well, bait 
was rewarded with no sight of his prey that night, 
and at last with a sense of duty well done and the 
comfortable promise from the conductor that his 
deftly worded telegraphic message to Mr. Holman 
should be sent from a station they passed a little 
after midnight, he crept to his well-earned rest. He 
was not at home in a dress shirt and collar, being 
of the walks of life where a collar is mostly 
accounted superfluous, and he was glad to be relieved 
of it for a few hours. It had not yet occurred to 
him that his appearance in that evening suit would 
be a trifle out of place when morning came. It 
is doubtful if he had ever considered matters of 
dress. His profession was that of a human ferret 
of the lower order, and there were many things he 
did not know. It might have been the way he held 
his fork at dinner that had made Gordon decide that 
he was but a henchman of the others. 

Having put his mind and his body at rest he pro- 
ceeded to sleep, and the train thundered on its way 
into the night. 

Gordon meanwhile had hurried back from his 
appeal to the conductor, and stood looking helplessly 
down at the delicate girl as she lay there so white 
and seemingly lifeless. Her pretty travelling gown 


THE BEST MAN 


123 


set off the exquisite face finely; her glorious hair 
seemed to crown her. A handsome hat had fallen 
unheeded to the floor, and lay rolling back and 
v forth in the aisle with the motion of the train. He 
picked it up reverently, as though it had been a 
part of her. His face in the few minutes had gone 
haggard. 

The conductor hurried in presently, followed by 
a grave elderly man with a professional air. He 
touched a practised finger to the limp wrist, looked 
closely into the face, and then taking a little bottle 
from a case he carried called for a glass. 

The liquid was poured between the closed lips, 
the white throat reluctantly swallowed it, the eyelids 
presently fluttered, a long breath that was scarcely 
more than a sigh hovered between the lips, and then 
the blue eyes opened. 

She looked about, bewildered, looking longest at 
Gordon, then closed her eyes wearily, as if she 
wished they had not brought her back, and lay still. 

The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon, 
with time now to think, began to reflect on the 
possible consequences of his deeds. With anxious 
face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he 
might not claim even a look of recognition from 
those sweet eyes, and wishing with all his heart that 
his marriage had been genuine. A passing memory 


124 


THE BEST MAN 


of his morning ride to New York in company with 
Miss Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to 
his eyes. It all seemed so long ago, and so strange 
that he ever could have entertained for a moment 
the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl 
of course, fine and handsome and all that, — but — 
and here his eyes sought the sweet sad face on the 
couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for 
the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must 
yet give to her when he told her who he was, or 
rather who he was not; for he must tell her and that 
soon. It would not do to go on in her company — 
nor to Chicago! And yet, how was he possibly to 
leave her in this condition? 

But no revelations were to' be given that night. 

The physician administered another draught, and 
ordered the porter to' make up the berth immediately. 
Then with skilful hands and strong arms he laid the 
young girl in upon the pillows and made her com- 
fortable, Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly 
by with averted eyes and troubled mien. He would ' 
have liked to help, but he did not know how. 

“ She’d better not be disturbed any more than is 
necessary to-night,” said the doctor, as he pulled 
the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly down 
about the girl’s ankles and patted it with profes- 
sional hands. “ Don’t let her yield to any nonsense 


THE BEST MAN 


125 


about putting up her hair, or taking off that frock 
for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie perfectly 
quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should 
say a long strain of some kind — anxiety, worry per- 
haps.” He looked keenly at the sheepish bride- 
groom. “ Has she had any trouble? ” 

Gordon lifted honest eyes. 

“ I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it 
must have been his fault some way. 

“Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the 
elder man briskly. “ She’s a very fragile bit of 
womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle 
her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her happy, 
young man ! People can’t have too much happiness 
in this world. It’s the best thing, after all, to keep 
them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.” 

“ Thank you ! ” said Gordon, fervently, wishing 
it were in his power to do what the physician 
ordered. 

The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and 
the brusque but good-hearted conductor went away 
at last, and Gordon was left with his precious charge, 
who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The 
light was turned low and the curtains of the berth 
were a little apart. He could see the dim outline of 
'drapery about her, and one shadowy hand lying 
limp at the edge of the couch, in weaiy relaxation. 


126 


THE BEST MAN 


Above her, in the upper berth, which he had told 
the porter not to make up, lay the great purple-black 
plumed hat, and a sheaf of lilies of the valley from 
her bouquet. It seemed all so strange for him to 
be there in their sacred presence. 

He locked the door, so that no one should dis- 
turb the sleeper, and went slowly into the little 
private dressing-room. For a full minute after he 
reached it, he stood looking into the mirror before 
him, looking at his own weary, soiled face, and won- 
dering if he, Cyril Gordon, heretofore honored and 
self-respecting, had really done in the last twelve 
hours all the things which he was crediting himself 
with having done ! And the question was, how had 
it happened? Had he taken leave of his senses, or 
had circumstances been too much for him? Had he 
lost the power of judging between right and wrong? 
Could he have helped any of the things that had 
come upon him ? How could he have helped them ? 
What ought he to have done? What ought he to 
do now? Was he a criminal beyond redemption? 
Had he spoiled the life of the sweet woman out there 
in her berth, or could he somehow make amends 
for what he had done? And was he as badly to 
blame for it all as he felt himself to be? 

After a minute he rallied, to realize that his face 
was dirty. He washed the marks, of the adhesive 


THE BEST MAN 


127 


plaster away, and then, not satisfied with the result, 
he brought his shaving things from his suit-case and 
shaved. Somehow, he felt more like himself after 
his toilet was completed, and he slipped back into 
the darkened drawing-room and stretched himself 
wearily on the couch, which, according to his direc- 
tions, was not made up, but merely furnished with 
pillows and a blanket. 

The night settled into the noisy quiet of an ex- 
press train, and each revolution of the wheels, as 
they whirled their way Chicagoward, resolved itself 
into the old refrain, “ Don’t let anything hinder 
you ! Don’t let anything hinder you ! ” 

He certainly was not taking the most direct 
route from New York to Washington, though it 
might eventually prove that the longest way round 
was the shortest way home, on account of its com- 
parative safety. 

As he settled to the quiet of his couch, a number 
of things came more clearly to his vision. One 
was that they had safely passed the outskirts of 
New York without interference of any kind, and 
must by this time be speeding toward Albany, unless 
they were on a road that took them more directly 
West. He had not thought to look at the tickets 
for knowledge of his bearings, and the light was 
too dim for him to make out any monograms or let- 


128 


THE BEST MAN 


terings on inlaid wood panels or transoms, even if 
he had known enough about New York railroads 
to gain information from them. There was one 
thing certain: even if he had been mistaken about 
his supposed pursuers, by morning there would 
surely be some one searching for him. The duped 
Holman combination would stop at nothing when 
they discovered his theft of the paper, and he could 
not hope that so sharp-eyed a man as Mr. Holman 
had seemed to be would be long in discovering the 
absence of his private mark on the paper. Undoubt- 
edly he knew it already. As for the frantic bride- 
groom, Gordon dreaded the thought of meeting him. 
It must be put off at any hazards until the message 
was safe with his chief, then, if he had to answer 
with his life for carrying off another man’s bride, he 
could at least feel that he left no duty to his gov- 
ernment undone. It was plain that his present situa- 
tion was a dangerous one from two points of view, 
for the bridegroom would have no difficulty in 
finding out what train he and the lady had taken; 
and he was satisfied that an emissary of Holman had 
more than a suspicion of his identity. The obvious 
thing to do was to get off that train at the first oppor- 
tunity and get across country to another line of rail- 
road. But how was that to be done with a sick 
lady on his hands? Of course he could ^eave her 


THE BEST MAN 


129 


to herself. She probably had taken journeys be- 
fore, and would know how to get back. She would 
at least be able to telegraph to her friends to come 
for her. He could leave her money and a note ex- 
plaining his involuntary villainy, and her indigna- 
tion with him would probably be a sufficient stimu- 
lant to keep her from dying of chagrin at her plight. 
But as from the first every nerve and fibre in him 
rejected this suggestion. It would be cowardly, 
unmanly, horrible! Undoubtedly it might be the 
wise thing to do from many standpoints, but — never ! 
He could no more leave her that way than he could 
run off to save his life and leave that message he 
carried. She was a trust as much as that. He had 
got into this, and he must get out somehow, but he 
would not desert the lady or neglect his duty. 

Toward morning, when his fitful vigil became 
less lucid it occurred to him that he ought really 
to have deserted the bride while she was still un- 
conscious, jumping off the train at the short stop 
they made soon after she fell into his arms. She 
would then have been cared for by some one, his 
absence discovered, and she would have been put off 
the train and her friends sent for at once. But it 
would have been dastardly to have deserted her that 
way not knowing even if she still lived, he on whom 
she had at least a claim of temporary protection. 

9 


130 


THE BEST MAN 


It was all a terrible muddle, right and wrong 
juggled in such a mysterious and unusual way. He 
never remembered to have come to a spot before 
where it was difficult to know which of two things 
it was right to do. There had always before been ; 
such clearly defined divisions. He had supposed 
that people who professed not to know what was 
right were people who wished to be blinded on the 
subject because they wished to do wrong and think 
it right. But now he saw that he had judged such 
too harshly. 

Perhaps his brain had been overstrained with 
the excitement and annoyances of the day, and 
he was not quite in a condition to judge what was 
right. He ought to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, and 
then his mind would be clearer, for something must 
be done and that soon. It would not do to risk 
entering a large city where detectives and officers 
with full particulars might even now be on the watch 
for him. He was too familiar with the workings of 
retribution in this progressive age not to know his 
danger. But he really must get some sleep. 

At last he yielded to the drowsiness that was 
stealing over him — j\ist for a moment, he thought, 
and the wheels hummed on their monotonous song: 
“ Don’t let anything hinder ! Don’t let any- 
thing ! Don’t let ! Don’t! Hin-der-r-r-r! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


The man slept, and the train rushed on. The 
night waned. The dawn grew purple in the east, 
and streaked itself with gold; then later got out a 
fillet of crimson and drew over its cloudy forehead. 
The breath of the lilies filled the little room with deli- 
cate fragrance, and mingled strange scenes in the 
dreams of the man and the woman so strangely 
united. 

The sad little bride grew restless and stirred, but 
the man on the couch did not hear her. He was 
dreaming of a shooting affray, in which he carried 
a bride in a gold pencil and was shot for stealing a 
sandwich out of Mr. Holman’s vest pocket. 

The morning light grew clearer. The east had 
put on a vesture of gold above her purple robe, and 
its reflection shone softly in at the window, for 
the train was just at that moment rushing north- 
ward, though its general course was west. 

The sleeper behind the thick green curtains 
stirred again and became conscious, as in many days 
past, of her heavy burden of sorrow. Always at 
first waking the realization of it sat upon her as 
though it would crush the life from her body. Ly- 
ing still with bated breath, she fought back waking 

131 


132 


THE BEST MAN 


consciousness as she had learned to do in the last 
three months, yet knew it to be futile while she was 
doing it. 

The sun shot up between the bars of crimson, 
like a topaz on a lady’s gown that crowns the whole 
beautiful costume. The piercing, jewelled light lay 
across the white face, touched the lips with warm 
fingers, and the troubled soul knew all that had 
passed. 

She lay quiet, letting the torrent sweep over her 
with its sickening realization. She was married! 
It was over — with the painful parting from dear 
ones. She was off away from them all. The new 
.life she so dreaded had begun, and how was she to 
face it — the life with one whom she feared and 
did not respect? How could she ever have done it 
but for the love of her dear ones? 

Gradually she came to remember the night be- 
fore — the parting with her mother and her brother ; 
the little things that brought the tears again to her 
eyes. Then all was blankness. She must have 
fainted. She did not often faint, but it must be — 
yes, she remembered opening her eyes and seeing 
men’s faces about her, and George — could it have 
been George? — with a kinder look in his eyes than 
she had ever thought to see there. Then she must 
have fainted again — or had she? No, some one had 


THE BEST MAN 


133 


lifted her into this berth, and she had drunk some- 
thing and had gone to sleep. What had happened? 
t \Vhere was everybody? It was good to have been 
left alone. She grudgingly gave her unloved hus- 
band a fragment of gratitude for not having tried 
to talk to her. In the carriage on the way he had 
seemed determined to begin a long argument of some 
kind. She did not want to argue any more. She 
had written tomes upon the subject, and had said 
all she had to say. He was not deceived. He knew 
she did not love him, and would never have married 
him but for her mother’s sake and for the sake of 
her beloved father’s memory. What was the use 
of saying more? Let it rest. The deed was done, 
and they were married. Now let him have his way 
and make her suffer as he chose. If he would but 
let her suffer in silence and not inflict his bitter 
tongue upon her, she would try to bear it. And per- 
haps. — oh, perhaps, she would not live long, and it 
would soon be all over. 

As the daylight grew, the girl felt an inclination 
to find out whether her husband was near. Cau- 
tiously she lifted her head, and, drawing back a cor- 
ner of the curtain, peered out. 

He lay quietly on the couch, one hand under his 
cheek against the pillow, the other across his breast, 
as if to guard something. He was in the still sleep 


134 


THE .BEST MAN 


of the overwearied. He scarcely seemed to be 
breathing. 

Celia dropped the curtain, and put her hand to 
her throat. It startled her to find him so near and 
so still. Softly, stealthily, she lay down again and 
closed her eyes. She must not waken him. She 
would have as long a time to herself as was pos- 
sible, and try to think of her dear mother and her 
precious brother. Oh, if she were just going away 
from them alone, how well she could bear it! But 
to be going with one whom she had always almost 
bated 

Her brother’s happy words about George sud- 
denly came to her mind. Jefferson had thought 
him fine. Well, of course the dear boy knew noth- 
ing about it. He had not read all those letters — 
those awful letters. He did not know the threats — 
the terrible language that had been used. She shud- 
dered as she thought of it. But in the same breath 
she was glad that her brother had been deceived. 
She would not have it otherwise. Her dear ones 
must never know what she had gone through to save 
them from disgrace and loss of fortune — disgrace, 
of course, being the first and greatest. She had 
feared that George would let them see through his 
veneer of manners, and leave them troubled, but he 
had made a better appearance than she had hoped. 


THE BEST MAN 


135 


Ten years had made a greater change in him than 
she had expected. He really had not been so bad as 
her conjured image of him. 

Then a sudden desire to look at him again seized 
her, to know once for all just how he really did seem. 
She would not want to notice him awake any more 
than she could help, nor dare, lest he presume upon 
her sudden interest, to act as if he had never 
offended; but if she should look at him now as he 
lay asleep she might study his face and see what 
she really had to expect. 

She fought the desire to peer at him again, but 
finally it gained complete possession of her, and she 
drew back the curtain once more. 

He was lying just as quietly as before. His 
heavy hair, a little disordered on the pillow, gave 
him a noble, interesting appearance. He did not 
seem at all a fellow of whom to be afraid. It was 
incredible that he could have written those letters. 

She tried to trace in his features a likeness to 
the youth of ten years ago, whom she had known 
when she was but a little girl, who had tied her 
braids to her chair, and put raw oysters and cater- 
pillars down her back, or stretched invisible cords 
to trip her feet in dark places; who made her visits 
to a beloved uncle — whom he also had the right to 
call uncle, though he was no cousin of hers — a long 


130 


THE BEST MAN 


list of catastrophes resulting in tears ; who had never 
< failed to mortify her on all occasions possible, and 

once But the memories were too horrible as 

they crowded one upon another! Let them be for- 
gotten ! 

She watched the face before her keenly, criti- 
cally, yet she could see no trace of any such character 
as she had imagined the boy George must have 
developed as a man; of which his letters had given 
her ample proof. This man’s face was finely cut 
and sensitive. There was nothing coarse or selfish 
in its lines. The long, dark eyelashes lay above 
dark circles of weariness, and gave that look of 
boyishness that always touches the maternal 
chord in a woman’s heart. George used to have a 
puffy, self-indulgent look under his eyes even when 
he was a boy. She had imagined from his last 
photograph that he would be much stouter, much 
more bombastic; but, then, in his sleep, perhaps 
those things fell from a man. 

She tried to turn away indifferently, but some- 
thing in his face held her. She studied it. If he had 
been any other man, any stranger, she would have 
said from looking at him critically that kindness 
and generosity, self-respect and respect for women, 
were written all over the face before her. There 
was fine, firm modelling about the lips and the 


THE BEST MAN 


137 


clean-shaven chin; and about the forehead the look 
almost of a scholar; yet she thought she knew the 
man before her to be none of these things. How de- 
ceptive were looks ! She would probably be envied 
rather than pitied by all who saw her. Well, perhaps 
that was better. She could the easier keep her 
trouble to herself. But stay, what was there about 
this man that seemed different? The smooth face? 
Yes. She had the dim impression that last night 
he wore a mustache. She must have been mistaken, 
of course. She had only looked at him when abso- 
lutely necessary, and her brain was in such a whirl ; 
but still there seemed to be something different 
about him. 

Her eyes wandered to the hand that lay across 
his breast. It was the fine white hand of the pro- 
fessional man, the kind of hand that somehow 
attracts the eye with a sense of cleanness and 
strength. There was nothing flabby about it. 
George as a boy used to have big, stumpy fingers and 
nails chewed down to the quick. She could remem- 
ber how she used to hate to look at them when she 
was a little girl, and yet somehow could not keep 
her eyes away. She saw with relief that the nails 
on this hand were well shaped and well cared for. 

He looked very handsome and attractive as he 
lay there The sun shot one of its early daring bolts 


138 


THE BEST MAN 


of light across his hair as the train turned in its 
course and lurched northward around a curve. It 
glinted there for a moment, like a miniature search- 
light, travelling over the head, showing up every 
wave and curve. He had the kind of hair which 
makes a woman’s hand instinctively long to touch it. 

Celia wondered at the curious thoughts that 
crowded through her mind, knowing that all the 
while there was the consciousness that when this 
man should wake she would think of nothing but his 
hateful personality as she had known it through the 
years. And she was his wife ! How strange! How 
terrible! How impossible to live with the thought 
through interminable weary years! Oh, that she 
might die at once before her strength failed and her 
mother found out her sorrow ! 

She lay back again on her pillows very still and 
tried to think, but somehow a pleasant image of 
him, her husband, lingered in her memory. Could 
it be possible that she would ever see anything pleas- 
ant in him? Ever endure the days of his compan- 
ionship? Ever come to the point where she could 
overlook his outrageous conduct toward her, forgive 
him, and be even tolerant of him? Sharp memories 
crowded upon her, and the smarting tears stung their 
way into her eyes, answering and echoing in her 
heart, “ No, no, a thousand times, no ! ” She had 


THE BEST MAN 


139 


paid his price and gained redemption for her own, 
but — forget what he had done? Never! 

The long strain of weariness, and the monotony 
of the onrushing train, lulled her half into uncon- 
sciousness again, and the man on the couch slum- 
bered on. 

He came to himself suddenly, with all his senses 
on the alert, as the thumping noise and motion of 
the train ceased, and a sudden silence of open coun- 
try succeeded, broken now and again by distant 
oncoming and receding voices. He caught the frag- 
ment of a sentence from some train official : “ It’s 
a half-hour late, and maybe more. We’ll just have 
to lie by, that’s all. Here, you, Jim, take this flag 

and run up to the switch ” The voice trailed 

into the distance, ended by the metallic note of a 
hammer doing something mysterious to the under- 
pinning of the car. 

Gordon’ sat up suddenly, his hand yet across his 
breast, where his first waking thought had been to 
feel if the little pencil-case were safe. 

Glancing stealthily toward the curtains of the 
berth, and perceiving no motion, he concluded that 
the girl still slept. 

Softly he slipped his feet into his shoes, gave 
one or two other touches to his toilet, and stood up, 
looking toward the curtains. He wanted to go out 


140 


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and see where they were stopping, but dared he go 
without knowing that she was all right? 

Softly, reverently, he stooped and brought his 
face close to the opening in the curtains. Celia felt 
his eyes upon her. Her own were closed, and by a 
superhuman effort she controlled her breathing, 
slowly, gently, as if she were asleep. 

He looked for a long moment, thrilled by the 
delicate beauty of her sleeping face, filled with an 
intoxicating joy to see that her lips were no longer 
white; then, turning reverently away, he unlocked 
the door and stepped forth. 

The other occupants or the car were still wrapped 
in slumber. Loud snores of various kinds and 
qualities testified to that. A dim light at the further 
end contended luridly, and losingly, with the day- 
light now flooding the outside world and creeping 
mischievously into the transoms. 

Gordon closed the door of the compartment 
noiselessly and went down the aisle to the end of 
the car. 

A door was open, and he could hear voices out- 
side. The conductor stood talking with two brake- 
men. He heard the words : “ Three-quarters of an 
hour at least,” and then the men walked off toward 
the engine. 

Gordon looked across the country, and for the 


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141 


first time since he started on his journey let himself 
remember that it was springtime and May. 

There had been a bitter wind the night before, 
with a hint of rain in the air. In fact, it had rained 
quite smartly during the ride to the hospital with 
the hurt child, but he had been so perturbed that 
he had taken little notice of the weather. But this 
was a radiant morning. 

The sun was in one of its most charming moods, 
when it touches everything with a sort of unnatural 
glory after the long winter of darkness and cold. 
Every tree trunk in the distance seemed to stand out 
clearly, every little grass-blade was set with a glow- 
ing jewel, and the winding stream across a narrow 
valley fairly blazed with brightness. The very road 
with its deep, clean wheel-grooves seemed like a 
well-taken photograph. 

The air had an alluring softness mingled with 
its tang of winter that made one long to take a walk 
anywhere out into the world, just for the joy of 
being and doing. A meadow-lark shot up from 
somewhere to a telegraph pole, let go a blithe note, 
and hurried on. It was glorious. The exhilaration 
filled Gordon's blood. 

And here was the chance he craved to slip away 
from the train before it reached a place where he 
could be discovered. If he had but thought to 


142 


THE BEST MAN 


bring his suit-case ! He could slip back now without 
being noticed and get it ! He could even go without 
it! But — he could not leave her that way — could 

he? Ought he? Perhaps he ought But it 

would not do to leave his suit-case with her, for 
it contained letters addressed to his real name. An 
explanation would of course be demanded, and he 
could never satisfy a loving mother and brother for 
having left a helpless girl in such a situation — even 
if he could satisfy his own conscience, which he 
knew he never could. He simply could not leave 
her, and yet he must get away from that train as 
soon as possible. Perhaps this was the only oppor- 
tunity he would have before reaching Buffalo, and 
it was very risky, indeed dangerous, to dare enter 
Buffalo. It was a foregone conclusion that there 
would be private detectives ready to meet the train 
in Buffalo with full descriptions and particulars and 
only too ready to make way with him if they could 
do so without being found out. He looked ner- 
vously back at the door of the car. Dared he attempt 
to waken her and say that they had made a mistake 
and must change cars? Was she well enough? 
And where could they go? 

He looked off toward the landscape for answer 
to his question. 

They were decidedly in the country. The train 


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143 


stood at the top of a high embankment of cinders, 
below which was a smooth country road running 
parallel to the railroad for some distance till it met 
another road at right angles to it, which stretched 
away between thrifty meadow-lands to a nestling 
village. The glorified stream he had first noticed 
far up the valley glinted narrower here in the morn- 
ing light, with a suggestion of watercress and for- 
get-me-nots in its fringes as it veered away under 
a bridge toward the village and hid itself in a tangle 
of willows and cat-tails. 

How easy it would be to slide down that embank- 
ment, and walk out that road over the bridge to the 
village, where of course a conveyance of some sort 
could be hired to bear him to another railroad town 
and thence to — Pittsburgh, perhaps, where he could 
easily get a train to Washington. How easy if only 
he were not held by some invisible hands to care for 
the sweet sleeper inside the car! And yet, for her 
• sake as well as his own, he must do something, and 
1 that right speedily. 

He was standing thus in deep meditation, look- 
ing off at the little village which seemed so near and 
yet would be so far for her to walk, when he was 
pervaded with that strange sense of some one near. 
For an instant he resisted the desire to lift his eyes 
and prove to himself that no one was present in a 


144 


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doorway which a moment before he knew had been 
unoccupied. Then, frowning at his own nervous- 
ness, he turned. 

She^ stood there in all the beauty of her fresh 
young girlhood, a delicate pallor on her cheeks, and 
a deep sadness in her great dark eyes, which were 
fixed upon him intently, in a sort of puzzled study. 
She was fully dressed, even to her hat and gloves. 
Every wave of her golden hair lay exquisitely in 
place under the purple hat, as though she might 
have taken an hour or two at her toilet ; yet she had 
made it with excited haste, and with trembling fin- 
gers, determined to have it accomplished before the 
return of her dreaded liege lord. 

She had sprung from her berth the instant he 
closed the door upon her, and fastened the little 
catch to bar him out. She had dashed cold water 
into her face, fastened her garments hurriedly, and 
tossed the glory of her hair into place with a few 
touches and what hairpins she could find on the 
floor. Then putting on her hat, coat, and gloves, 
she had followed him into the outer air. She had 
a feeling that she must have air to breathe or she 
would suffocate. A wild desire filled her to go alone 
into the great out-of-doors. Oh, if she but dared to 
run away from him ! But that she might not do, for 
all his threats would then probably be made good 


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145 


by him upon her dear mother and brother. No, she 
must be patient and bear to the end all that was set 
down for her. But she would get out and breathe 
a little before he returned. He had very likely gone 
into the smoker. She remembered that the George 
of old had been an inveterate smoker of cigarettes. 
She would have time for a taste of the morning 
while he had his smoke. And if he returned and 
found her gone what mattered it? The inevitable 
beginning of conversations which she so dreaded 
would be put off for a time. 

She never thought to come upon him standing 
thus alone, looking off at the beauty of the morning 
as if he enjoyed it. The sight of him held her still, 
watching, as his sleeping face had held her gaze 
earlier in the morning. How different he was from 
what she had expected! How the ten years had 
changed him! One could almost fancy it might 
have changed his spirit also — but for those letters — • 
those terrible letters! The writer of those letters 
could not change, except for the worse! 

And yet, he was handsome, intellectual looking, 
kindly in his bearing, appreciative of the beauty 
about him — she could not deny it. It was most 
astonishing. He had lost that baggy look under 
his eyes, and the weak, selfish, cruel pout of lip 
she remembered so keenly. 

10 


146 


THE BEST MAN 


Then he turned, and a smile of delight and wel- 
come lit up his face. In spite of herself, she could 
not keep an answering smile from glimmering 
faintly in her own. 

“ What! You up and out here? ” he said, has- 
tening closer to the step. “ How are you feeling 
this morning? Better, I’m sure, or you would not 
be here so early.” 

“ Oh, I had to get out to the air,” she said* 
“ I couldn’t stand the car another minute. I wish 
we could walk the rest of the way.” 

“ Do you?” he said, with a quick, surprised 
appreciation in his voice. “ I was just wishing some- 
thing like that myself. Do you see that beautiful 
straight road down there? I was longing to slide 
down this bank and walk over to that little village 
for breakfast. Then we could get an auto, perhaps, 
or a carriage, to take us on to another train. If 
you hadn’t been so ill last night, I might have pro- 
posed it.” 

“ Could we ? ” she asked, earnestly. “ I should 
like it so much ; ” and there was eagerness in her 
Voice. “ What a lovely morning ! ” Her eyes were 
Wistful, like the eyes of those who weep and wonder 
why they may not laugh, since sunshine is still 
yellow. 


THE BEST MAN 


147 


“ Of course we could,” he said, “ if you were 
only able.” 

“ Oh, I’m able enough. I should much rather 
do that than to go back into that stuffy car. But 
wouldn’t they think it awfully queer of us to run 
away from the train this way? ” 

“ They needn’t know anything about it,” he 
declared, like a boy about to play truant. “ I’ll slip 
back in the car and get our suit-cases. Is there any- 
thing of yours I might be in danger of leaving 
behind ? ” 

“ No, I put everything in my suit-case before I 
came out,” she said, listlessly, as though she had 
already lost her desire to go. 

“ I’m afraid you are not able,” he said, pausing 
solicitously as he scaled the steps. 

She was surprised at his interest in her welfare. 

“ Why, of course I am,” she said, insistently. 
“ I have often taken longer walks than that looks to 
be, and I shall feel much better for being out. I 
really feel as if I couldn’t stand it any longer ir 
there.” 

“ Good ! Then, we’ll try it ! ” 

He hurried in for the baggage and left her 
standing on the cinder roadbed beside the train look* 
ing off at the opening morning. 


CHAPTER IX 


It was just at that instant that the thick-set man 
in his berth not ten feet away became broadly con- 
scious of the unwonted stillness of the train and the 
cessation of motion that had lulled him to such 
sound repose. So does a tiny, sharp sound strike 
upon our senses and bring them into life again 
from sleep, making us aware of a state of things 
that has been going on for some time perhaps with- 
out our realization. The sound that roused him 
may have been the click of the stateroom latch as 
Gordon opened the door. 

The shades were down in the man’s berth and 
the curtains drawn close. The daylight had not 
as yet penetrated through their thickness. But once 
awake his senses were immediately on the alert. He 
yawned, stretched and suddenly arrested another 
yawn to analyze the utter stillness all about him. A 
sonorous snore suddenly emphasized the quiet of 
the car, and made him aware of all the occupants of 
all those curtained apartments. His mind went 
over a quick resume of the night before, and de- 
tailed him at once to duty. 

Another soft clicking of the latch set him to 
listening and his bristly shocked head was stuck 
148 


THE BEST MAN 


149 


instantly out between the curtains into the aisle, 
eyes toward the stateroom door, just in time to see 
that a man was stealing quietly down the passage- 
way out of the end door, carrying two suit-cases and 
an umbrella. It was his man. He was sure in- 
stantly, and his mind grew frantic with the thought. ' 
Almost he had outdone himself through foolish 
sleep. 

He half sprang from his berth, then remembered 
that he was but partly dressed, and jerked back 
quickly to grab his clothes, stopping in the opera- 
tion of putting them on to yank up his window shade 
with an impatient click and flatten his face against 
the window-pane ! 

Yes, there they were down on the ground out- 
side the train, both of them; man, woman, baggage 
and all slipping away from him while he slept peace- 
fully and let them go! The language of his mind 
at that point was hot with invectives. 

Gordon had made his way back to the girl’s side 
without meeting any porters or wakeful fellow- 
passengers. But a distant rumbling greeted his 
ears. The waited- for express was coming. If they 
were to get away, it must be done at once or their 
flight would be discovered, and perhaps even pre- 
vented. It certainly was better not to have it known > 
where they got off. He had taken the precaution to 


150 


THE BEST MAN 


close the stateroom door behind him and so it might 
be some time before their absence would be dis- 
covered. Perhaps there would be other stops before 
the train reached Buffalo, in which case their track 
would not easily be followed. He had no idea that 
the evil eye of his pursuer was even then upon him. 

Celia was already on the ground, looking off 
toward the little village wistfully. Just how it was 
to make her lot any brighter to get out of the train* 
and run away to a strange little village she did not 
quite explain to herself, but it seemed to be a relief 
to her pent-up feelings. She was half afraid that 
George might raise some new objection when he 
returned. 

Gordon swung himself down on the cinder path, 
scanning the track either way. The conductor and 
brakemen were not in sight. Far in the distance 
a black speck was rushing down upon them. Gor- 
don could hear the vibration of the rail of the second 
track, upon which he placed his foot as he helped 
Celia across. In a moment more the train would 
pass. It was important that they should be down 
the embankment, out of sight. Would the delicate 
girl not be afraid of the steep incline? 

She hesitated for just an instant at the top, for 
it was very steep. Then, looking up at him, she 


THE BEST MAN 


151 


saw that he expected her to go down with him. She 
gave a little frightened gasp, set her lips, and started. 

He held her as well as he could with two suit- 
cases and an umbrella clutched in his other hand, 
and finally, as the grade grew steeper, he let go the 
baggage altogether, and it slid briskly down by itself, 
while he devoted himself to steadying the girl’s now 
inevitable and swift descent. 

It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling, 
this new style of u gravity ” road, but it landed them 
without delay, though much shaken and scratched, 
and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was 
impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out 
merrily, showing that she had not always wept and 
looked sorrowful. 

“ Are you much hurt ? ” asked Gordon anxiously, 
holding her hands and looking down at her tenderly. 

Before she could reply, the express train roared 
above them, drowning their voices and laughter; 
and when it was past they saw their own train take 
up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly 
move off. If the passengers on those two trains 
had not been deeply wrapped in slumber, they might 
have been surprised to see two fashionably attired 
young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands, 
laughing in a country road at five o’clock of a May 
morning. But only one was awake, and by the time 


152 


THE BEST MAN 


the two in the road below remembered to look up 
and take notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing. 

The girl had been deeply impressed with Gor- 
don’s solicitude for her. It was so out of keeping 
| with his letters. He had never seemed to care 
'whether she suffered or not. In all the arrange- 
ments, he had said what he wanted, indeed what he 
would have , with an implied threat in the framing 
of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had 
there been the least expression of desire for her 
happiness. Therefore it was something of a surprise 
to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her. Per- 
haps, after all, he would not prove so terrible to 
live with as she had feared. And yet — how could 
anyone who wrote those letters have any alleviating 
qualities? It could not be. She must harden her- 
self against him. Still, if he would be outwardly 
decent to her, it would make her lot easier, of course. 

But her course of mental reasoning was broken 
in upon by his stout denunciations of himself. 

“ I ought not to have allowed you to slide down 
there,” he declared. “ It was terrible, after what 
you went through last night. I didn’t realize how 
steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t I don’t 
see how you ever can forgive me.” 

“ Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, aston- 
ished at his solicitation. There was a strange lump 


THE BEST MAN 


153 


in her throat brought by his kindness, which threat- 
ened tears. Just why should kindness from an un- 
expected quarter bring tears? . * 

“ I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she 
saw a real anxiety in his brown eyes, “ and I don’t 
mind it in the least. I think it was rather fun, don’t 
you ? ” 

A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the cor- 
ners of her mouth, and Gordon experienced a sudden 
desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. It was a 
strange new feeling. He had never had any such 
thought about Julia Bentley. 

“ Why, I— why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure 
you’re not hurt.” 

“ Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unex- 
plained reason, they both began to laugh. After that 
they felt better. 

“ If your shoes are as full of these miserable cin- 
ders as mine are, they need emptying,” declared 
Gordon, shaking first one well-shod foot and then 
the other, and looking ruefully at the little velvet 
boots of the lady. 

“ Suppose you sit down ” — he looked about for a 
seat, but the dewy grass was the only resting place 
visible. He pitched upon the suit-cases and impro- 
vised a chair. “ Now, sit down and let me take them 
off for you.” 


154 


THE BEST MAN 


He knelt in the road at her feet as she obeyed, 
protesting that she could do it for herself. But he 
overruled her, and began clumsily to unbutton the 
tiny buttons, holding the timid little foot firmly, 
almost reverently, against his knee. 

He drew the velvet shoe softly off, and, turning 
it upside down, shook out the intruding cinders, put 
a clumsy finger in to make sure they were all gone ; 
then shyly, tenderly, passed his hand over the sole 
of the fine silk-stockinged foot that rested so lightly 
on his knee, to make sure no cinders clung to it. The 
sight and touch of that little foot stirred him deeply. 
He had never before been called upon to render ser- 
vice so intimate to any woman, and he did it now 
with half-averted gaze and the utmost respect in his 
manner. As he did it he tried to speak about the 
morning, the departing train, the annoying cinders, 
anything to make their unusual position seem nat- 
ural and unstrained. He felt deeply embarrassed, 
! the more so because of his own double part in this 
queer masquerade. 

Celia sat watching him, strangely stirred. Her 
wonder over his kindness grew with each moment, 
and her prejudices almost dissolved. She could not 
understand it. There must be something more he 
wanted of her, for George Hayne had never been 
kind in the past unless he wanted something of her. 


THE BEST MAN 


155 


She dreaded lest she should soon find it out. Yet 
he did not look like a man who was deceiving her. 
She drew a deep sigh. If only it were true, and he 
were good and kind, and had never written those 
awful letters! How good and dear it would be 
to be tenderly cared for this way ! Her lips drooped 
at the corners, and her eyelids drooped in company 
with the sigh; then Gordon looked up in great 
distress. 

“You are tired !” he declared, pausing in his 
attempt to fasten the little pearl buttons. “ I have 
been cruel to let you get off the train ! ” 

“ Indeed I’m not,” said the girl, brightening with 
sudden effort. At least, she would not spoil the 
kindness while it lasted. It was surely better than 
what she had feared. 

“ You never can button those shoes with your 
fingers,” she laughed, as he redoubled his efforts 
to capture a tiny disc of pearl and set it into its small 
velvet socket. “ Here ! I have a button-hook in 
my hand-bag. Try this.” 

She produced a small silver instrument from a 
gold-link bag on her arm and handed it to him. He 
took it helplessly, trying first one end and then the 
other, and succeeding with neither. 

“ Here, let me show you,” she laughed, pulling 
off one glove. Her white fingers grasped the silver 


156 


THE BEST MAN 


button-hook, and flashed in and out of the velvet 
holes, knitting the little shoe to the foot in no time. 
He watched the process in humble wonder, and she 
would not have been a human girl not to have 
been flattered with his interest and admiration. For 
the minute she forgot who and what he was, and let 
her laugh ring out merrily; and so with shy audacity 
he assayed to take off the other shoe. 

They really felt quite well acquainted and as if 
they were going on a day’s picnic, when they finally 
gathered up their belongings and started down the 
road. Gordon summoned all his ready wit and intel- 
lect to brighten the walk for her, though he found 
himself again and again on the brink of referring 
to his Washington life, or some other personal 
matter that would have brought a wondering ques- 
tion to her lips. He had decided that he must not 
tell her who he was until he could put her in an inde- 
pendent position, where she could get away from him 
at once if she chose. He was bound to look after 
her until he could place her in good hands, or at least 
where she could look after herself, and it was better 
to carry it out leaving her to think what she pleased 
until he could tell her everything. If all went well, 
they might be able to catch a Pittsburgh train that 
night and be in Washington the next day. Then, his 


THE BEST MAN 


157 


message delivered, he would tell her the whole story. 
Until then he must hold his peace. 

They went gaily down the road, the girl's pale 
cheeks beginning to flush with the morning and 
the exercise. She was not naturally delicate, and 
her faint the night before had been the result of a 
series of heavy strains on a heart burdened with ter- 
rible fear. The morning and his kindness had made 
her forget for the time that she was supposed to be 
walking into a world of dread and sacrifice. 

“ The year’s at the spring, 

The day’s at the morn,” 

quoted Gordon gaily, 

“Morning’s at seven; 

The hill-side’s dew-pearled ” 

He waved an umbrella off to where a hill flashed 
back a thousand lights from its jewelled grass-blades 
thickly set 

“ The lark’s on the wing ; 

The snail’s on the thorn,” 

went on Celia suddenly catching his spirit, and point- 
ing to a lark that darted up into the blue with a 
trill of the morning in his throat. 

Gordon turned appreciative eyes upon her. It 
was good to have her take up his favorite poet in that 
tone of voice — a tone that showed she too knew and 
loved Browning. 


158 


THE BEST MAN 


“God’s in his heaven, 

All’s right with the world,’* 

finished Gordon in a quieter voice, looking straight 
into her eyes. “ That seems very true, to-day, 
doesn’t it? ” 

The blue eyes wavered with a hint of shadow 
in them as they looked back into the brown ones. 

“ Almost — perhaps,” she faltered wistfully. 

The young man wished he dared go behind that 
“ almost — perhaps ” and find out what she meant, 
but concluded it were better to bring back the smile 
and help her to forget for a little while at least. 

Down by the brook they paused to rest, under a 
weeping willow, whose green-tinged plumes were 
dabbling in the brook. Gordon arranged the suit- 
cases for her to sit upon, then climbed down to the 
brookside and gathered a great bunch of forget-me- 
nots, blue as her eyes, and brought them to her. 

She looked at them in wonder, to think they grew 
out here, wild, untended. She had never seen them 
before, except in pots in the florist’s windows. She 
touched them delicately with the tips of her fingers, 
as if they were too ethereal for earth; then fastened 
them in the breast of her gown. 

“ They exactly match your eyes ! ” he exclaimed 
involuntarily, and then wished he had not spoken, 
for she flushed and paled under his glance, until 


THE BEST MAN 


159 


he felt he had been unduly bold. He wondered why 
he had said that. He never had been in the habit 
of saying pretty things to girls, but this girl some- 
how called it from him. It was genuine. He sat a 
moment abashed, not knowing what to say next, as 
if he were a shy boy, and she did not help him, for 
her eyelashes drooped in a long becoming sweep over 
her cheeks, and she seemed for the moment not to 
be able to carry off the situation. He was not sure if 
she were displeased or not. 

Her heart had thrilled strangely as he spoke, and 
she was vexed with herself that it should be so. A 
man who had bullied and threatened her for three 
terrible months and forced her to marry him had no 
right to a thrill of her heart nor a look from her 
eyes, be he ever so kind for the moment. He cer- 
tainly was nice and pleasant when he chose to be ; she 
must watch herself, for never, never, must she yield 
weakly to his smooth overtures. Well did she know 
' him. He had some reason for all this pleasantness. 
It would surely be revealed soon. 

She stiffened her lips and tried to look away from 
him to the purply-green hills; but the echo of his 
words came upon her .again, and again her heart 
thrilled at them. What if — oh what if he were all 
right, and she might accept the admiration in his 
voice? And yet how could that be possible? The 


160 


THE BEST MAN 


sweet color came into her cheeks again, and the tears 
flew quickly to her eyes, till they looked all sky and 
dew, and she dared not turn back to him. 

The silence remained unbroken, until a lark in the 
willow copse behind them burst forth into song and 
broke the spell that was upon them. 

“ Are you offended at what I said ? ” he asked 
earnestly. “ I am sorry if you did not like it. The 
words said themselves without my stopping to think 
whether you might not like it. Will you forgive 
me?” 

“ Oh,” she said, lifting her forget-me-not eyes 
to his, “ I am not offended. There is nothing to 
forgive. It was — beautiful ! ” 

Then his eyes spoke the compliment over again, 
and the thrill started anew in her heart, till her cheeks 
grew quite rosy, and she buried her face in the cool- 
ness of the tiny flowers to hide her confusion. 

“ It was very true,” he said in a low, lover-like 
voice that sounded like a caress. 

“ Oughtn’t we to hurry on to catch our train? ” 
said Celia, suddenly springing to her feet. “ I’m 
quite rested now.” She felt if she stayed there an- 
other moment she would yield to the spell he had cast 
upon her. 

With a dull thud of consciousness the man got 
himself to his feet and reminded himself that this 


THE BEST MAN 


161 


was another man’s promised wife to whom he had 
been letting his soul go out. 

“ Don’t let anything hinder you ! Don’t let 
anything hinder you ! ” suddenly babbled out the 
little brook, and he gathered up his suit-cases and 
started on. 

“ I am going to carry my suit-case,” declared a 
very decided voice behind him, and a small hand 
Seized hold of its handle. 

“ I beg your pardon, you are not ! ” declared 
Gordon in a much more determined voice. 

“ But they are too heavy for you — both of them 
— and the umbrella too,” she protested. “ Give me 
the umbrella then.” 

But he would not give her even the umbrella, 
rejoicing in his strength to shield her and bear her 
burdens. As she walked beside him, she remembered 
vividly a morning when George Hayne had made 
her carry two heavy baskets, that his hands might 
be free to shoot birds. Could this be the same 
George Hayne? 

Altogether, it was a happy walk, and far shorter 
than either had expected it to be, though Gordon 
worried not a little about his frail companion before 
they came to the outskirts of the village, and kept 
begging her to sit down and rest again, but she 
would not. She was quite eager and excited about 
ll 


THE BEST MAN 


162 

the strange village to which they were coming. Its 
outlying farm-houses were all so clean and white, 
with green blinds folded placidly over their front 
windows, and only their back doors astir. The cows 
all looked peaceful, and the dogs all seemed friendly. 

They walked up the village street, shaded in 
patches with flecks of sunshine through the young 
leaves. If anyone had told Celia Hathaway the 
night before that she would have walked and talked 
thus to-day with her bridegroom she would have 
laughed him to scorn. But now all unconsciously 
she had drifted into an attitude of friendliness with 
the man whom she had thought to hate all the rest 
of her life. 

One long, straight, maple-lined street, running 
parallel to the stream, comprised the village. They 
walked to the centre of it, and still saw no signs of a 
restaurant. A post-office, a couple of stores and a 
bakery made up the business portion of the town, 
and upon enquiry it appeared that there was no 
public eating house, the one hotel of the place having 
been sold at auction the week before on account of 
the death of the owner. The early village loungers 
stared disinterestedly at the phenomenal appear- 
ance in their midst of a couple of city folks with 
their luggage and no apparent means of transit ex- 
cept their two delicately shod feet. It presented a 


THE BEST MAN 


163 


problem too grave to be solved unassisted, and 
there were solemn shakings of the head over them. 
At last one who had discouragingly stated the village 
lack of a public inn asked casually: 

“ Hed a runaway ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! ” laughed Gordon pleasantly. “ We 
didn’t travel with horses.” 

“ Hed a puncture, then,” announced the village 
wiseacre, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“ W al, you come the wrong direction to git help,” 
said another languid listener. “ Thur ain’t no gar- 
ridge here. The feller what uset to keep it skipped 
out with Sam Galt’s wife a month ago. You’d 
ought to ’a’ turned back to Ashville. They got a 
good blacksmith there can tinker ye up.” 

“ Is that so ? ” said Gordon interestedly. “ Well 
now that’s too bad, but perhaps as it can’t be helped 
we’ll have to forget it. What’s the next town on 
ahead and how far? ” 

“ Sugar Grove’s two mile further on, and Mil- 
ton’s five. They’ve got a garridge and a rest’rant to 
Milton, but that’s only sence the railroad built a 
junction there.” 

“ Has any one here a conveyance I could hire 
to take us to Milton? ” questioned Gordon, looking 
anxiously about the indolent group. 

“ J wouldn’t want to drive to Milton for less’n 


164 


THE BEST MAN 


five dollars,” declared a lazy youth after a suitable 
pause. 

“ Very well,” said Gordon. “ How soon can you 
be ready, and what sort of a rig have you? Will 
it be comfortable for the lady? ” 

The youth eyed the graceful woman in her dainty 
city dress scornfully. His own country lass was 
dressed far prettier to his mind ; but the eyes of her, 
so blue, like the little weed-flowers at her breast, 
went to his head. His tongue was suddenly tied. 

“ It’s all right ! It’s as good’s you’ll get ! ” volun- 
teered a sullen-faced man half sitting on a sugar 
barrel. He was of a type who preferred to see 
fashionable ladies uncomfortable. 

The youth departed for his “ team ” and after 
some enquiries Gordon found that he might be able 
to persuade the owner of the tiny white colonial cot 
across the street to prepare a “ snack ” for himself 
and his companion, so they went across the street 
and waited fifteen minutes in a dank little hair-cloth 
parlor adorned in funeral wreaths and knit tidies, 
for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, coffee, 
home-made bread, butter like roses, and a comb of 
amber honey. To each the experience was a new 
one, and they enjoyed it together like two children, 
letting their eyes speak volumes of comments in 
the midst of the old lady’s volubility. Unconsciously 


THE BEST MAN 


165 


by their experiences they were being brought into 
sympathy with each other. 

The “ rig ” when it arrived at the door driven 
by the blushing youth proved to be a high spring- 
wagon with two seats. In the front one the youth 
lounged without a thought of assisting his passen- 
gers. Gordon swung the baggage up, and then lifted 
the girl into the back seat, himself taking the place 
beside her, and planting a firm hand and arm behind 
the backless seat, that she might feel more secure. 

That ride, with his arm behind her, was just 
one more link in the pretty chain of sympathy that 
was being welded about these two. Unconsciously 
more and more she began to droop, until when she 
grew very tired he seemed to know at once. 

“ Just lean against my arm,” he said. “ You 
must be very tired and it will help you bear the 
jolting.” He spoke as if his arm were made of wood 
or iron, and was merely one of his belongings, like 
an umbrella or suit-case. He made it seem quite the 
natural thing for her to lean against him. If he had 
claimed it as her right and privilege as wife, she 
would have recoiled from him for recalling to her 
the hated relation, and would have sat straight as a 
bean-pole the rest of the way, but, as it was, she 
sank back a trifle deprecatingly, and realized that it 
was a great help. In her heart she thanked him for 


166 


THE BEST MAN 


making it possible for her to rest without entirely 
compromising her attitude toward him. There was 
nothing about it that suggested anything loverlike; 
it seemed just a common courtesy. 

| Yet the strong arm almost trembled as he felt the 
precious weight against it, and he wished that the 
way were ten miles instead of five. Once, as Celia 
leaned forward to point to a particularly lovely bit 
of view that opened up as they wound around a 
curve in the road, they ran over a stone, and the 
wagon gave an unexpected jolt. Gordon reached 
his hand out to steady her, and she settled back to 
his arm with a sense of safety and being cared for 
that was very pleasant. Looking up shyly, she saw 
his eyes upon her, with that deep look of admiration 
and something more, and again that strange thrill of 
joy that had come when he gave her the forget-me- 
nots swept through her. She felt almost as if she 
were harboring a sinful thought when she remem- 
bered the letters he had written; but the joy of the 
day, and the sweetness of happiness for even a 
moment, when she had been for so long a time sad, 
was so pleasant that she let herself enjoy it and 
drift, refusing to think evil of him now, here, in 
this bright day. Thus like children on a picnic, they 
passed through Sugar Grove and came to the town 
of Milron, and there they bade their driver good-by. 


THE BEST MAN 


167 


rewarding him with a crisp five-dollar bill. He drove 
home with a vision of smiles in forget-me-not eyes, 
and a marked inability to tell anything about his 
wonderful passengers who had filled the little village 
with awe and amazement, and had given no clue 
to anyone as to who or what they were. 


CHAPTER X 


But to go back to the pursuer, in his berth, baffled 
and frantic and raging. With hands that fumbled 
because of their very eagerness he sought to get 
into his garments, and find his shoes from the melee 
of blankets and other articles in the berth, all the 
time keeping one eye out of the window, for he 
must not let his prey get away from him now. He 
must watch and see what they were going to do. 
How fortunate that he had wakened in time for that. 
At least he would have a clue. Where was this? 
A station ? 

He stopped operations once more to gaze off at 
the landscape, a desolate country scene to his city 
hardened eyes. Not a house in sight, nor a station. 
The spires of the distant village seemed like a mirage 
to him. This couldn’t be a station. What were 
those two doing down there anyway? Dared he 
risk calling the conductor and having him hold 
them? No, this affair must be kept absolutely quiet. 

I Mr. Holman had said that if a breath of the matter 
came out it was worse than death for all concerned. 
He must just get off this train as fast as he could 
and follow them if they were getting away. It might 
be he could get the man in a lonely place — it would 
168 


THE BEST MAN 


169 


be easy enough tor watch his chance and gag the 
lady — he had done such things before. He felt far 
more at home in. such an affair than he had the night 
before at the Holman dinner table. What a pity 
one of the others had not come along. It would be 
mere child’s play for two to handle those two who 
looked as if they would turn frightened at the first 
threat. However, he felt confident that he could 
manage the affair alone. 

He panted with haste and succeeded in getting 
the wrong legs into his trousers and having to be- 
gin all over again, his efforts greatly hampered by 
the necessity for watching out the window. 

Then came the distant rumble of an oncoming 
train, and an answering scream from his own engine. 
The two on the ground had crossed quickly over the 
second track and were looking down the steep em- 
bankment. Were they going down there? What 
fate that he was not ready to follow them at once! 
The train that was coming would pass — their own 
would start — and he could not get out. His oppor- 
tunity was going from him and he could not find his 
shoes ! 

Well what of it? He would go without! What 
were shoes in a time like this ? Surely he could get 
along barefoot, and beg a pair at some farmhouse, 
or buy a pair at a country store. He must get out 


170 


THE BEST MAN 


at any cost, shoes or no shoes. Grasping his coat 
which contained his money and valuables he sprang 
from his berth straight into the arms of the porter 
who was hurrying back to his car after having been 
out to gossip with a brakeman over the delay. 

“ What’s de mattah, sah ? ” asked the astonished 
porter, rallying quickly from the shock and assum- 
ing his habitual courtesy. , 

“ My shoes ! ” roared the irate traveller. “ What 
have you done with my shoes ? ” 

~ “ Quiet, sah, please sah, you’ll wake de whole 
cyah,” said the porter. “ I put yoh shoes under de 
berth sah, right whar I alius puts ’em aftah blackin’ 
sah.” 

The porter stooped and extracted the shoes from 
beneath the curtain and the traveller, whose experi- 
ence in Pullmans was small, grabbed them furiously 
and made for the door, shoes in hand, for with a 
snort and a lurch and a preliminary jar the train 
had taken up its motion, and a loud rushing outside 
proclaimed that the other train was passing. 

The porter, feeling that he had been treated with 
injustice, stood gazing reproachfully after the man 
for a full minute before he followed him to tell him 
that the wash-room was at the other end of the car 
and not down past the drawing-room as he evidently 
supposed. 


THE BEST MAN 


171 


He found his man standing in stocking feet on 
the cold iron platform, his head out of the opening 
left in the vestibuled train, for when the porter came 
in he had drawn shut the outer door and slammed 
down the movable platform, making it impossible 
for anyone to get out. There was only the little 
opening the size of a window above the grating 
guard, and the man clung to it as if he would jump 
over it if he only dared. He was looking back over 
the track and his face was not good to see. 

He turned wildly upon the porter. 

“ I want you to stop this train and let me off,” he 
shouted. “ I’ve lost something valuable back there 
on the track. Stop the train quick, I tell you, or I’ll 
sue the railroad.” 

“ What was it you lost? ” asked the porter re- 
spectfully. He wasn’t sure but the man was half 
asleep yet. 

“ It was a — my — why it was a very valuable 
paper. It means a fortune to me and several other 
people and I must go back and get it. Stop the train, 
I tell you, at once or I’ll jump out.” 

“ I can’t stop de train sah, you’ll hev to see de 
conductah sah, ’bout dat. But I specks there’s 
mighty little prospec’ o’ gettin’ dis train stopped 
foh it gits to its destinashun sah. We’s one hour 


172 


THE BEST MAN 


a’hind time now, sah, an’ he’s gotta make up foh 
we gits to Buff’lo.” 

The excited passenger railed and stormed until 
several sleepers were awakened and stuck curious 
sleepy countenances out from the curtains of their 
berths, but the porter was obdurate, and would not 
take any measures to stop the train, nor even call 
the conductor until the passenger promised to return 
quietly to his berth. 

The thick-set man was not used to obeying but 
he saw that he was only hindering himself and 
finally hurried back to his berth where he hastily 
parted the curtains, craning his neck to see back 
along the track and over the green valley growing 
smaller and smaller now in the distance. He could 
just make out two moving specks on the white wind- 
ing ribbon of the road. He felt sure he knew the 
direction they were taking. If he only could get 
off that train he could easily catch them, for they 
would have no idea he was coming, and would take 
no precautions. If he had only wakened a few 
seconds sooner he would have been following them 
even now. 

Fully ten minutes he argued with the conductor, 
showing a wide incongruity between his language 
and his gentlemanly attire, but the conductor would 
do nothing but promise to set him down at a water 


THE BEST MAN 


173 


tower ten miles ahead where they had to slow up for 
water. He said sue or no sue he had his orders, 
and the thick-set man did not inspire him either to 
sympathy or confidence. The conductor had been 
many years on the road and generally knew when to 
stop his train and when to let it go on. 

Sullenly the thick-set man accepted the conduc- 
tor’s decision and prepared to leave the train at the 
water tower, his eye out for the landmarks along 
the way as he completed his hasty toilet. 

He was in no pleasant frame of mind, having 
missed a goodly amount of his accustomed stimu- 
lants the night before, and seeing little prospect of 
either stimulants or breakfast before him. He was 
not built for a ten-mile walk over the cinders and 
his flabby muscles already ached at the prospect. 
But then, of course he would not have to go far be- 
fore he found an automobile or some kind of convey- 
ance to help him on his way. He looked eagerly 
from the window for indications of garages or 
stables, but the river wound its silver way among the 
gray green willow fringes, and the new grass shone 
a placid emerald plain with nothing more human 
than a few cows grazing here and there. Not even 
a horse that might be borrowed without his owner’s 
knowledge. It was a strange, forsaken spot, ten 
whole miles and no sign of any public livery! Off 


174 


THE BEST MAN 


to the right and left he could see villages, but they 
were most of them too far away from the track to 
help him any. It began to look as if he must 
just foot it all the way. Now and then a small 
shanty or tiny dwelling whizzed by near at hand, but 
nothing that would relieve his situation. 

It occurred to him to go into the dining car for 
breakfast, but even as he thought of it the conductor 
told him that the train would stop in two minutes and 
he must be ready to get off, for they did not stop 
long. 

He certainly looked a harmless creature, that! 
thick-set man as he stood alone upon the cinder ele- 
vation and surveyed the landscape o’er. Ten miles 
from his quarry, alone on a stretch of endless ties 
and rails with a gleaming river mocking him down 
in the valley, and a laughing sky jeering overhead. 
He started down the shining track his temper a, 
wreck, his mind in chaos, his soul at war with the 
world. The worst of it all was that the whole fault 
was his own for going to sleep. He began to fear 
that he had lost his chance. Then he set his ugly 
jaw and strode ahead. 

The morning sun poured down upon the thick-set 
man on his pilgrimage, and waxed hotter until noon. 
Trains whizzed mercilessly by and gave him no suc- 
cor. Weary, faint, and fiercely thirsty he came at 


THE BEST MAN 


175 


last to the spot where he was satisfied his quarry had 
escaped. He could see the marks of their rough 
descent in the steep cinder bank, and assaying the 
same himself came upon a shred of purple silk caught 
on a bramble at the foot. 

Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he 
sat down at the very place where Celia had stopped 
to have her shoes fastened, and mopped his purple 
brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and 
after a few moment’s rest he trudged onward. That 
town over there ought to yield both conveyance and 
food as well as information concerning those he 
sought. He would catch them. They could never 
get away from him. He was on their track again, 
though hours behind. He would get them yet and 
no man should take his reward from him. 

Almost spent he came at last to the village, and 
ate a surprisingly large dish of beef and vegetable 
stew at the quaint little house where Celia and Gor- 
don had breakfasted, but the old lady who served 
it to them was shy about talking, and though admit- 
ting that a couple of people had been there that morn- 
ing she was non-committal about their appearance. 
They might have been young and good-looking and 
worn feathers in their hats, and they might not 
She wasn’t one for noticing people’s appearance if 
they treated her civilly and paid their bills. Would 


176 


THE BEST MAN 


he have another cup of coffee ? He would, and also 
two more pieces of pie, but he got very little further 
information. 

It was over at the corner store where he finally 
went in search of something stronger than coffee 
that he further pursued his investigations. 

The loungers were still there. It was their only 
business in life and they were most diligent in it. 
They eyed the newcomer with a relish and settled 
back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy 
whatever entertainment the gods were about to pro- 
vide to relieve their monotonous existence. 

A house divided against itself cannot stand. This 
man’s elegant garments assumed for the nonce did 
not fit the rest of his general appearance which had 
been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp. The 
high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head 
and bore a decided dent where it had rolled down the 
cinder embankment, his collar was wilted and life- 
less, his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat 
awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which 
pinched were covered with dust and had caused a 
limp like the hardest tramp upon the road. More- 
over, again the speech of the man betrayed him, and 
the keen-minded old gossips who were watching him 
suspiciously sized him up at once the minute he 
opened his mouth. 


THE BEST MAN 


177 


“ Saw anything of a couple of young folks walk- 
ing down this way? ” he enquired casually, pausing 
to light a cigar with which he was reinforcing him- 
self for further travel. 

i One man allowed that there might have passed 
such people that day. He hardly seemed willing to 
commit himself, but another vouchsafed the infor- 
mation that “ Joe here driv two parties of thet 
description to Milton this mornin’ — jes’ got back. 
Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.” 

Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the 
thick-set man. He still remembered the forget-me- 
not eyes. 

But the stranger made instant request to be 
driven to Milton, offering ten dollars for the same 
when he found that his driver was reluctant, and 
that Milton was a railroad centre. A few keen ques- 
tions had made him sure that his man had gone to 
Milton. 

Joe haggled, allowed his horse was tired, and he 
didn’t care about the trip twice in one day, but finally 
agreed to take the man for fifteen dollars, and saun- 
tered off to get a fresh horse. He had no mind to 
be in a hurry. He had his own opinion about letting 
those two “ parties ” get out of the way before the 
third put in an appearance, but he had no mind to 
12 


178 


THE BEST MAN 


lose the fifteen dollars. It would help to buy the 
ring he coveted for his girl. 

In due time Joe rode leisurely up and the im- 
patient traveller climbed into the high spring wagon 
and was driven away from the apathetic gaze of the 
country loungers, who unblinkingly took in the fact 
that Joe was headed toward Ashville, and evidently 
intended taking his fare to Milton by way of that 
village, a thirty-mile drive at least. The man would 
get the worth of his money in ride. A grim twinkle 
sat in their several eyes as the spring wagon turned 
the curve in the road and was lost to sight, and 
after due silence an old stager spoke: 

“ Do you reckon that there was their sho-fur? ” 
he requested languidly. 

“ Naw! ” replied a farmer’s son vigorously. 
“ He wouldn’t try to showf all dolled up like that. 
He’s the rich dad cornin’ after the runaways, Joe 
don’t intend he shell get ’em yet awhile. I reckon 
the ceremony’ll be over ’fore he steps in to inter- 
fere.” This lad went twice a month to Milton to 
the “ movies ” and was regarded as an authority 
on matters of romance. A pause showed that his 
theory had taken root in the minds of his auditors. 

“ Wal, I reckon Joe thinks the longest way round 
is the shortest way home,” declared the old stager. 
“ Joe never did like them cod-fish swells — but how 


THE r MAN 


179 


do you 'count fer the style o' that gal? She wan't 
like her dad one little bit.” 

“ Oh, she's ben to collidge I ’spose,” declared 
the youth. “ They get all that off’n collidge.” 

“ Serves the old man right fer sendin’ his gal to 
a fool collidge when she ought to a ben home learnin’ 
to house-keep. I hope she gits off with her young 
man all right,” said a grim old lounger, and a cackle 
of laughter went round the group, which presently 
broke up, for this had been a strenuous day and 
all felt their need of rest; besides they wanted to 
get home and tell the news before some neighbor got 
ahead of them. 

All this time Celia and Gordon were touring 
Milton, serenely unconscious of danger near, or 
guardian angel of the name of Joe. 

Investigation disclosed the fact that there was a 
train for Pittsburgh about three in the afternoon. 
Gordon sent a code telegram to his chief, assuring 
him of the safety of the message, and of his own 
intention to proceed to Washington as fast as steam 
could carry him. Then he took the girl to a restau^ 
rant, where they mounted two high stools, and par- 
took with an unusually ravenous appetite of nearly 
everything on the menu — corn soup, roast beef, 
baked trout, stewed tomatoes, cold slaw, custard, 
apple, and mince pies, with a cup of good country 


180 THE BEST MAN 

coffee and real cream — all for twenty-five cents 
apiece. 

It was a very merry meal. Celia felt somehow 
as if for the time all memory of the past had been 
taken from her, and she were free to think and act 
happily in the present, without any great problems 
to solve or decisions to make. Just two young 
people off having a good time, they were, at least 
until that afternoon train came. 

After their dinner, they took a short walk to a 
tiny park where two white ducks disported them- 
selves on a seven-by-nine pond, spanned by a rustic 
bridge where lovers had cut their initials. Gordon 
took out his knife and idly cut C. H. in the rough 
bark of the upper rail, while his companion sat on 
the little board seat and watched him. She was pon- 
dering over the fact that he had cut her initials, and 
not his own. It would have been like the George of 
old to cut his own and never once think of hers. 
And he had put but one H. Probably he thought of 
her now as Celia Hayne, without the Hathaway, or 
else he was so used to writing her name Celia Hatha- 
way, that he was not thinking at all. 

Those letters ! How they haunted her and clouded 
every bright experience that she fain would have 
grasped and held for a little hour. 

They were silent now, while he worked and 


THE BEST MAN 


181 


she thought. He had finished the C. H., and was cut- 
ting another C, but instead of making another H, 
he carefully carved out the letter G. What was 
that for? C. G. ? Who was C. G. ? Oh, how 
stupid! George, of course. He had started a C 
by mistake. But he did not add the expected H. In- 
stead he snapped his knife shut, laid his hand over 
the carving, and leaned over the rail. 

“ Some time, perhaps, we’ll come here again, 
and remember,” he said, and then bethought him 
that he had no right to hope for any such anni- 
versary. 

“ Oh ! ” She looked up into his eyes, startled, 
troubled, the haunting of her fears in the shadows 
of the blue. 

He looked down into them and read her trouble, 
read and understood, and looked back his great 
desire to comfort her. 

His look carried further than he meant it should. 
For the third time that day a thrill of wonder 
and delight passed over her and left her fearful 
with a strange joy that she felt she should put from 
her. 

It was only an instant, that look, but it brought 
the bright color to both faces, and made Gordon 
feel the immediate necessity of changing the subject. 


182 


THE BEST MAN 


“ See those little fishes down there,” he said 
pointing to the tiny lake below them. 

Through a blur of tears, the girl looked down 
and saw the tiny, sharp-finned creatures darting here 
and there in a beam of sun like a small search-light 
set to show them off. 

She moved her hand on the rail to lean further 
over, and her soft fingers touched his hand for a 
moment She would not draw them away quickly, 
lest she hurt him; why, she did not know, but she 
could not — would not — hurt him. Not now ! The 
two hands lay side by side for a full minute, and the 
touch to Gordon was as if a roseleaf had kissed his 
soul. He had never felt anything sweeter. He 
longed to gather the little hand into his clasp and 
feel its pulses trembling there as he had felt it in 
the church the night before, but she was not his. He 
might not touch her till she had her choice of what 
to do, and she would never choose him, never, when 
she knew how he had deceived her. 

That one supreme moment they had of perfect 
consciousness, consciousness of the drawing of soul 
to soul, of the sweetness of that hovering touch of 
hands, of the longing to know and understand each 
other. 

Then a sharp whistle sounded, and a farmer’s 
boy with a new rake and a sack of corn on his 


THE BEST MAN 


183 


Shoulder came sauntering briskly down the road to 
the bridge. Instantly they drew apart, and Celia 
felt that she had been on the verge of disloyalty to 
her true self. 

They walked silently back to the station, each 
busy with his own thoughts, each conscious of that 
one moment when the other had come so near. 


CHAPTER XI 


There were a lot of people at the station. They 
had been to a family gathering of some sort from 
their remarks, and they talked loudly and much, so 
that the two stood apart — for the seats were all 
occupied — and had no opportunity for conversa- 
tion, save a quiet smiling comment now and then 
upon the chatter about them, or the odd remarks 
they heard. 

There had come a constraint upon them, a with- 
drawing of each into his shell, each conscious of 
something that separated. Gordon struggled to pre- 
vent it, but he seemed helpless. Celia would smile 
in answer to his quiet remarks, but it was a smile 
of distance, such as she had worn early in the morn- 
ing. She had quite found her former standing 
ground, with its fence of prejudice, and she was 
repairing the breaks through which she had gone 
over to the enemy during the day. She was bracing 
herself with di.*re reminders, and snatches from 
those terrible letters which were written in charac- 
ters of fire in her heart. Never, never, could she 
care for a man who had done what this man had 
done. She had forgotten for a little while those 
terrible things he had said of her dear dead father. 

184 


THE BEST MAN 


185 


How could she have forgotten for an instant ! How 
could she have let her hand lie close to the hand 
that had defiled itself by writing such things ! 

By the time they were seated in the train, she was 
freezing in her attitude, and poor Gordon sat miser- 
ably beside her and tried to think what he had done 
to offend her. It was not his fault that her hand had 
lain near his on the rail. She had put it there her- 
self. Perhaps she expected him to put his over it, 
to show her that he cared as a bridegroom should 
care — as he did care, in reality, if he only had the 
right And perhaps she was hurt that he had stood 
coolly and said or done nothing. But he could 
not help it. 

Much to Gordon’s relief, the train carried a par- 
lor car, and it happened on this particular day to be 
almost deserted save for a deaf old man with a florid 
complexion and a gold knobbed cane who slumbered 
audibly at the further end from the two chairs 
Gordon selected. He established his companion 
comfortably, disposed of the baggage, and sat down, 
but the girl paid no heed to him. With a sad, set 
face, she stared out of the window, her eyes seeming 
to see nothing. For two hours she sat so, he making 
remarks occasionally, to which she made little or 
no reply, until he lapsed into silence, looking at 
her with troubled eyes. Finally, just as they neared 


186 


THE BEST MAN 


the outskirts of Pittsburgh, he leaned softly for- 
ward and touched her coat-sleeve, to attract her 
attention. 

“ Have I offended — hurt — you in any way ? ” 
he asked gently. She turned toward him, and her 
eyes were brimming full of tears. 

“ No,” she said, and her lips were trembling. 
“ No, you have been — most — kind — but — but I can- 
not forget those letters /” She ended with a sob 
and put up her handkerchief quickly to stifle it. 

“ Letters? ” he asked helplessly. “ What 
letters? ” 

“ The letters you wrote me. All the letters of 
the last five months. I cannot forget them. I can 
never forget them ! How could you think I could ? ” 

He looked at her anxiously, not knowing what 
to say, and yet he must say something. The time 
had come when some kind of an understanding, some 
clearing up of facts, must take place. He must go 
cautiously, but he must find out what was the mat- 
ter. He could not see her suffer so. There must 
be some way to let her know that so far as he was 
concerned she need suffer nothing further and that 
he would do all in his power to set her right with 
her world. 

But letters ! He had written no letters. His face 
lighted up with the swift certainty of one thing 


THE BEST MAN 


187 


about which he had not dared to be sure. She still 
thought him the man she had intended to marry. 
She was not therefore troubled about that phase of 
the question. It was strange, almost unbelievable, 
but it was true that he personally was not respon- 
sible for the trouble in her eyes. What trouble she 
might feel when she knew all, he had yet to find out, 
but it was a great relief to be sure of so much. Still, 
something must be said. 

“ Letters ! ” he repeated again stupidly, and then 
added with perplexed tone: “ Would you mind tell- 
ing me just what it was in the letters that hurt 
you? ” 

She turned eyes of astonishment on him. 

“ How can you ask? ” she said almost bitterly. 
“ You surely must know how terrible they were to 
me! You could not be the man you have seemed 
to be to-day if you did not know what you were 
doing to me in making all those terrible threats. 
You must know how cruel they were.” 

“ I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said ear- 
nestly, the trouble still most apparent in his eyes, 
“ Would you mind being a little more explicit? 
Would you mind telling me exactly what you think 
I wrote you that sounded like a threat ? ” 

He asked the question half hesitatingly, because 
he was not quite sure whether he was justified in thus 


188 


THE BEST MAN 


obtaining private information under false pretenses, 
and yet he felt that he must know just what troubled 
her or he could never help her ; and he was sure that 
if she knew he was an utter stranger, even a kindly 
one, those gentle lips would never open to inform 
him upon her torturer. As it was she could tell him 
her trouble with a perfectly clear conscience, think- 
ing she was telling it to the man who knew all 
about it. But his hesitation about prying into an 
utter stranger’s private affairs even with a good 
motive, gave him an air of troubled dignity, and 
real anxiety to know his fault that puzzled the girl 
more than all that had gone before. 

“ I cannot understand how you can ask such a 
question, since it has been the constant subject of 
discussion in all our letters ! ” she replied, sitting up 
with asperity and drying her tears. She was on the 
verge of growing angry with him for his petty, wilful 
misunderstanding of words whose meaning she felt 
he must know well. 

“ I do ask it,” he said quietly, “ and, believe me, 
I have a good motive in doing so.” 

She looked at him in surprise. It was impossible 
to be angry with those kindly eyes, even though he 
did persist in a wilful stupidity. 

Well, then, since you wish it stated once more 
J will tell you,” she declared, the tears welling again 


THE BEST MAN 


189 


into her eyes. “ You first demanded that I marry 
you — demanded — without any pretense whatever of 
caring for me — with a hidden threat in your demand 
that if I did not, you would bring some dire calamity 
upon me by means that were already in your power. 
You took me for the same foolish little girl whom 
you had delighted to tease for years before you went 
abroad to live. And when I refused you, you told 
me that you could not only take away from my 
mother all the property which she had inherited 
from her brother, by means of a will made just 
before my uncle’s death, and unknown except to his 
lawyer and you; but that you could and would 
blacken my dear dead father’s name and honor, and 
show that every cent that belonged to Mother and 
Jefferson and myself was stolen property. When 
I challenged you to prove any such thing against my 
honored father, you went still further and threat- 
ened to bring out a terrible story and prove it with 
witnesses who would swear to anything you said. 
lYou knew my father’s white life, you as much as 
owned your charges were false, and yet you dared 
to send me a letter from a vile creature who pre- 
tended that she was his first wife, and who said 
she could prove that he had spent much of his time 
5n her company. You knew the whole thing was 
a falsehood, but you dared to threaten to make this 


190 


THE BEST MAN 


known through the newspapers if I did not marry 
you. You realized that I knew that, even though few 
people and no friends would believe such a thing of 
my father, such a report in the papers — false though 
it was — would crush my mother to death. You 
knew that I would give my life to save her, and so 
you had me in your power, as you have me now* 
You have always wanted me in your power, just: 
because you love to torture, and now you have me. : 
But you cannot make me forget what you have 
done. I have given my life but I cannot give any 
more. If it is not sufficient you will have to do your 
worst.” 

She dropped her face into the little wet handker- 
chief, and Gordon sat with white, drawn counten- 
ance and clenched hands. He was fairly trembling 
with indignation toward the villain who had thus 
dared impose upon this delicate flower of woman- 
hood. He longed to search the world over for the 
false bridegroom; and, finding, give him his just 
dues. 

And what should he do or say? Dared he tell 
her at once who he was and trust to her kind heart 
to forgive his terrible blunder and keep his secret till 
the message was safely delivered? Dared he? Had 
he any right? No, the secret was not his to divulge 
either for his own benefit or for any other’s. He 


THE BEST MAN 


191 


must keep that to himself. But he must help her 
in some way. 

At last he began to speak, scarcely knowing what 
he was about to say : 

“ It is terrible, terrible , what you have told me. 
To have written such things to one like you — in fact, 
to any one on earth — seems to me unforgivable. It 
is the most inhuman cruelty I have ever heard of. 
(You are fully justified in hating and despising the 
man who wrote such words to you.” 

“Then, why did you write them?” she burst 
forth. “ And how can you sit there calmly and 
talk that way about it, as if you had nothing to do 
with the matter? ” 

“ Because I never wrote those letters,” he said, 
looking her steadily, earnestly, in the eyes. 

“You never wrote them!” she exclaimed ex- 
citedly. “ You dare to deny it? ” 

“ I dare to deny it.” His voice was quiet, ear- 
nest, convincing. 

She looked at him, dazed, bewildered, indignant, 
sorrowful. “ But you cannot deny it,” she said, her 
fragile frame trembling with excitement. “ I have 
the letters all in my suit-case. You cannot deny 
your own handwriting. I have the last awful one — 
the one in which you threatened Father’s good name 
* — here in my hand-bag. I dared not put it with the 


192 


THE BEST MAN 


rest, and I had no opportunity to destroy it before 
leaving home. I felt as if I must always keep it with 
me, lest otherwise its awful secret would somehow 
get out. There it is. Read it and see your own name 
signed to the words you say you did not write! ” 

While she talked, her trembling fingers had 
taken a folded, crumpled letter from her little hand- 
bag, and this she reached over and laid upon the 
arm of his chair. 

“ Read it,” she said. “ Read it and see that 
you cannot deny it.” 

“ I should rather not read it,” he *aid. “ I do 
not need to read it to deny that I ever wrote such 
things to you.” 

“ But I insist that you read it,” said the girl. 

“If you insist I will read it,” he said, taking the 
letter reluctantly and opening it. 

She sat watching him furtively through the tears 
while he read, saw the angry flush steal into his 
cheeks as the villainy of a fellow man was revealed ‘ 
to him through the brief, coarse, cruel epistle, and 
she mistook the flush for one of shame. 

Then his true brown eyes looked up and met her 
tearful gaze steadily, a fine anger burning in them. 

“ And you think I wrote that ! ” he said, a some- 
thing in his voice she could not understand. 


THE BEST MAN 


193 


u What else could I think ? It bears your signa- 
ture/’ she answered coldly. 

“ The letter is vile,” he said, “ and the man who 
wrote it is a blackguard, and deserves the utmost that 
the law allows for such offences. With your permis- 
sion,! shall make it my business to see that he gets it.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” she said, wide-eyed. 
“ How could you punish yourself ? You cannot still 
deny that you wrote the letter.” 

“ I still deny that I wrote it, or ever saw it until 
you handed it to me just now.” 

The girl looked at him, nonplussed, more than 
half convinced, in spite of reason. 

“ But isn’t that your handwriting? ” 

“ It is not. Look ! ” 

He took out his fountain pen, and, holding the 
letter on the arm of her chair, he wrote rapidly in his 
natural hand her own name and address beneath the 
address on the envelope, then held it up to her. 

“ Do they look alike? ” 

The two writings were as utterly unlike as pos- 
sible, the letter being addressed in an almost unread- 
able scrawl, and the fresh writing standing fine and 
clear, in a script that spoke of character and business 
ability. Even a child could see at a glance that the 
two were not written by the same hand — and yet 
of course, it might have been practised for the pur- 
13 


194 


THE BEST MAN 


pose of deception. This thought flashed through 
the minds of both even as he held it out for her 
to look. 

She looked from the envelope to his eyes and back 
to the letter, startled, not knowing what to think..' 

But before either of them had time for another 
word the conductor, the porter, and several people 
from the car behind came hurriedly through, and 
they realized that while they talked the train had 
come to a halt, amid the blazing electric lights of 
a great city station. 

“ Why,” said Gordon, startled, “ we must have 
reached Pittsburgh. Is this Pittsburgh ? ” he called 
out to the vanishing porter. 

“ Yas sah ! ” yelled the porter, putting his head 
around the curve of the passageway. “You bettah 
hurry sah, foh dis train goes on to Cincinnati pretty 
quick. We’s late gittin’ in you see.” 

Neither of them had noticed a man in rough 
clothes with slouch hat and hands in his pockets! 
who had boarded the train a few miles back and 
walked through the car several times eyeing them 
keenly. He stuck his head in at the door now fur- 
tively and drew back quickly again out of sight. 

Gordon hurriedly gathered up the baggage, and 
they went out of the car, the porter rushing back as 
they reached the door, to assist them and get a last 


THE BEST MAN 


195 


tip. There was no opportunity to say anything more, 
as they mingled with the crowd, until the porter 
landed their baggage in the great station and hurried 
back to his train. The man with the slouch hat fol- 
lowed and stood unobtrusively behind them. 

Gordon looked down at the white, drawn face 
of the girl, and his heart was touched with compas- 
sion for her trouble. He must make her some satis- 
factory explanation at once that would set her heart 
at rest, but he could not do it here, for every seat 
about them was filled with noisy chattering folk. He 
stooped and whispered low and tenderly : 

“ Don’t worry, little girl! Just try to trust me, 
and I will explain it all.” 

“ Can you explain it? ” she asked anxiously, as 
if catching at a rope thrown out to save her life. 

“ Perfectly,” he said, “ if you will be patient and 
ftrust me. But we cannot talk here. Just wait in this 
seat until I see if I can get the stateroom on the 
sleeper.” 

He left her with his courteous bow, and she sat 
watching his tall, fine figure as he threaded his way 
among the crowds to the Pullman window, her heart 
filled with mingling emotions. In spite of her 
reason, a tiny bit of hope for the future was spring- 
ing up in her heart and without her own will she 
found herself inclined to trust him. At least it was 
all she could do at present. 


CHAPTER XII 


Back at Milton an hour before, when the shades 
r>f dusk were falling and a slender moon hung 
timidly on the edge of the horizon, a horse drawing 
a spring wagon ambled deliberately into town and 
came to a reluctant halt beside the railroad station, 
having made a wide detour through the larger part 
of the county on the way to that metropolis. 

The sun had been hot, the road much of it rough, 
and the jolts over stones and bumps had not added 
to the comfort of the thick-set man, already bruised 
and weary from his travels. Joe’s conversation had 
not ceased. He had given his guest a wide range 
of topics, discoursing learnedly on the buckwheat 
crop and the blight that might be expected to assail 
the cherry trees. He pointed out certain portions 
of land infested with rattlesnakes, and told blood- 
curdling stories of experiences with stray bears 
and wild cats in a maple grove through which they 
passed till the passenger looked furtively behind 
him and urged the driver to hurry a little faster. 

Joe, seeing his gullibility, only made his stories 
of country life the bigger, for the thick-set man, 
though bold as a lion in his own city haunts, was a 
coward in the unknown world of the country. 

196 


THE BEST MAN 


197 


When the traveler looking at his watch urged 
Joe to make haste and asked how many miles further 
Milton was, Joe managed it that the horse should 
stumble on a particularly stony bit of road. Then 
getting down gravely from the wagon he examined 
the hprse’s feet each in turn, shaking his head sadly 
over the left fore foot. 

“ Jes’ ’z I ’sposed,” he meditated dreamily. 
“ Stone bruise ! Lame horse ! Don’t believe I ought 
to go on. Sorry, but it’ll be the ruination of the 
horse. You ain’t in a hurry I hope.” 

The passenger in great excitement promised to 
double the fare if the young man would get another 
horse and hurry him forward, and after great pro- 
fessions of doubt Joe gave in and said he would try 
the horse, but it wouldn’t do to work him hard. 
They would have to let him take his time. He 
couldn’t on any account leave the horse behind any- 
where and get a fresh one because it belonged to his 
best friend and he promised to bring it back safe and 
sound. They would just take their time and go 
slow and see if the horse could stand it. He wouldn’t 
think of trying it if it weren’t for the extra money 
which he needed. 

So the impatient traveler was dragged fuming 
along weary hour after weary hour through the 
monotonous glory of a spring afternoon of which 


198 


THE BEST MAN 


he saw nothing but the dust of the road as he tried 
to count the endless miles. Every mile or two Joe 
would descend from the wagon seat and fuss around 
the horse’s leg, the horse nothing loth at such un- 
precedented attention dozing cozily by the roadside 
during the process. And so was the traveler brought 
to his destination ten minutes after the last train that 
stopped at Milton that night had passed the station. 

The telegraph office was not closed however, and 
without waiting to haggle, the passenger paid his 
thirty dollars for the longest journey he ever took, 
and disappeared into the station, while Joe, whip- 
ping up his petted animal, and whistling cheerily : 

“ Where did you get that girl — ? ** 

went rattling down the short cut from Milton 
home at a surprising pace for a lame 'horse. He 
was eating his supper at home in a little more than 
an hour, and the horse seemed to have miraculously 
recovered from his stone bruise. Joe was wonder- 
ing how his girl would look in a hat with purple 
plumes, and thinking of his thirty dollars with a 
chuckle. 

It was surprising how much that thick-set man, 
weary and desperate though he was, could accom- 
plish, when once he reached the telegraph station 
and sent his messages flying on their way. In less 


THE BEST MAN 


199 


than three minutes after his arrival he had extracted 
from the station agent the fact that two people, man 
and woman, answering the description he gave, had 
bought tickets for Pittsburgh and taken the after- 
noon train for that city. The agent had noticed 
them on account of their looking as if they came 
from the city. He especially noticed the purple 
plumes, the like of which he had never seen before. 
He had taken every minute he could get off from 
selling tickets and sending telegrams to watch the 
lady through his little cobwebby window. They 
didn’t wear hats like that in Milton. 

In ten minutes one message was on its way to 
a crony in Pittsburgh with whom the thick-set man 
kept in constant touch for just such occasions as 
the present, stirring him to strenuous action ; another 
message had winged its mysterious way to Mr. 
Holman, giving him the main facts in the case ; while 
a third message caught another crony thirty miles 
north of Pittsburgh and ordered him to board the 
evening express at his own station, hunt up the 
parties described, and shadow them to their desti- 
nation, if possible getting in touch with the Pitts- 
burgh crony when he reached the city. 

The pursuer then ate a ham sandwich with 
liberal washings of liquid fire while he awaited re- 
plies to some of his messages; and as soon as he 


200 


THE BEST MAN 


was satisfied that he had set justice in motion he 
hired an automobile and hied him across country 
to catch a midnight express to Pittsburgh. He had 
given orders that his man and accompanying lady 
should be held in Pittsburgh until his arrival, and 
he had no doubt but that the orders would be car- 
ried out, so sure was he that he was on the right 
track, and that his cronies would be able and willing 
to follow his orders. 

There was some kind of an excursion on at 
Pittsburgh, and the place was crowded. The train- 
men kept calling off specials, and crowds hurried 
out of the waiting room, only to be replaced by other 
crowds, all eager, pushing, talking, laughing. They 
were mostly men, but a good many women and some 
children seemed to be of the number ; and the noise 
and excitement worried her after her own exciting 
afternoon. Celia longed to lay her down and sleep, 
but the seat was narrow, and hard, and people were 
pressing on every side. That disagreeable man in 
the slouch hat would stand too near. He was most 
repulsive looking, though he did not seem to be 
aware of her presence. 

Gordon had a long wait before he finally secured 
the coveted state-room and started back to her, 
when suddenly a face that he knew loomed up in 
the crowd and startled him. It was the face of a 


THE BEST MAN 


201 


private detective who was well known about Wash- 
ington, but whose headquarters were in New York. 

Until that instant, it had not occurred to him to 
fear watchers so far south and west as Pittsburgh. 
It was not possible that the other bridegroom would 
think to track him here, and, as for the Holman con- 
tingent, they would not be likely to make a public 
disturbance about his disappearance, lest they be 
found to have some connection with the first theft 
of government property. They could have watchers 
only through private means, and they must have 
been wily indeed if they had anticipated his move 
through Pittsburgh to Washington. Still, it was the 
natural move for him to make in order to get home 
as quickly as possible and yet escape them. And 
this man in the crowd was the very one whom they 
would have been likely to pick out for their work. 
He was as slippery in his dealings as they must be,, 
and no doubt was in league with them. He knew 
the man and his ways thoroughly, and had no mind 
to fall into his hands. 

Whether he had been seen by the detective yet 
or not, he could not tell, but he suspected he had, by 
the way the man stood around and avoided recog- 
nizing him. There was not an instant to be lost. 
The fine state-room must go untenanted. He must 
made a dash for liberty. Liberty ! Ah, East Liberty ! 


202 


THE BEST MAN 


what queer things these brains of ours are! He 
knew Pittsburgh just a little. He remembered 
having caught a train at East Liberty Station once 
when he had not time to come down to the station 
to take it. Perhaps he might get the same train at 
East Liberty. It was nearly two hours before it 
left. 

Swooping down upon the baggage, he mur- 
mured in the girl’s ear : 

“ Can you hurry a little? We must catch a car 
right away.” 

She followed him closely through the crowd, he 
stooping as if to look down at his suit case, so that 
his height might not attract the attention of the 
man whose recognition he feared, and in a moment 
more they were out in the lighted blackness of the 
streets. One glance backward showed his supposed 
enemy stretching his neck above the crowd, as if 
searching for some one, as he walked hurriedly to- 
ward the very doorway they had just passed. Be- 
hind them shadowed the man in the slouch hat, and 
with a curious motion of his hand signalled another 
like himself, the Pittsburgh crony, who skulked in 
the darkness outside. Instantly this man gave an- 
other signal and out of the gloom of the street a 
carriage drew up at the curb before the door, the 
cabman looking eagerly for patronage. 


THE BEST MAN 


203 


Gordon put both suit-cases in one hand and taking 
Celia’s arm as gently as he could in his haste hur- 
ried her toward the carriage. It was the very refuge 
he sought. He placed her inside and gave the order 
for East Liberty Station, drawing a long breath of 
relief at being safely out of the station. He 
did not see the shabby one who mounted the box 
beside the driver and gave his directions in guttural 
whispers, nor the man with the slouch hat who 
watched from the doorway and followed them 
to a familiar haunt on the nearest car. He only 
felt how good it was to be by themselves once more 
where they could talk together without interruption. 

But conversation was not easy under the circum- 
stances. The noise of wagons, trains and cars was 
so great at the station that they could think of 
nothing but the din, and when they had threaded 
their way out of the tangle and started rattling over 
the pavement the driver went at such a furious pace 
that they could still only converse by shouting and 
that not at all satisfactorily. It seemed a strange 
thing that any cabman should drive at such a rapid 
rate within the city limits, but as Gordon was anx- 
ious to get away from the station and the keen-eyed 
detective as fast as possible he thought nothing of 
it at first. After a shouted word or two they ceased 
to try to talk, and Gordon, half shyly, reached out 


204 


THE BEST MAN 


a reassuring hand and laid it on the girl’s shrinking 
one that lay in her lap. He had not meant to keep 
it there but a second, just to make her understand 
that all was well, and he would soon be able to ex- 
plain things, but as she did not seem to resent it, 
nor draw her own away, he yielded to the temptation 
and kept the small gloved hand in his‘. 

The carriage rattled on, bumpety-bump, over 
rough places, around corners, tilting now and then 
sideways, and Celia, half frightened, was forced to 
cling to her protector to keep from being thrown on 
the floor of the cab. 

“Oh, are we running away? ” she breathed awe- 
somely into his ear. 

“ I think not, — dear,” he answered back, the 
last word inaudible. “ The driver thinks we are in 
a hurry but he has no need to go at this furious 
pace. I will tell him.” 

He leaned forward and tapped on the glass, but 
the driver paid no attention whatever save perhaps 
to drive faster. Could it be that he had lost con- 
trol of his horse and could not stop, or hadn’t he 
heard? Gordon tried again, and accompanied the 
knocking this time with a shout, but all to no pur- 
pose. The cab rattled steadily on. Gordon discov- 
ered now that there were two men on the box instead 
of one, and a sudden premonition sent a thrill of 


THE BEST MAN 


205 


alarm through him. What if after all the presence 
of that detective had been a warning, and he un- 
heeding had walked into a trap? What a fool he 
had been to get into a carriage where he was at the 
mercy of the driver. He ought to have stayed in 
open places where kidnapping would be impossible. 
Now that he had thought of it he felt convinced that 
this was just what the enemy would try to do, — 
kidnap him. The more fruitless he found his efforts 
to make the driver hear him the more he felt con- 
vinced that something was wrong. He tried to 
open the door next him and found it stuck. He 
put all his strength forth to turn the catch but it held 
fast. Then a cold sweat stood out upon him and 
horror filled his mind. His commission with its 
large significance to the country was in imminent 
jeopardy. His own life was in all probability hang- 
ing in the balance, but most of all he felt the awful 
peril of the sweet girl by his side. What terrible ex- 
periences might be hers within the next hour if his 
brain and right arm could not protect her. Instinc- 
tively his hand went to the pocket where he had kept 
his revolver ready since ever he had left Washing- 
ton. Danger should not find him utterly unpre- 
pared. 

He realized, too, that it was entirely possible, 
that his alarms were unfounded ; that the driver was 


206 


THE BEST MAN 


really taking them to the East Liberty station ; thaf 
the door merely stuck, and he was needlessly anx- 
ious. He must keep a steady head and not let his 
companion see that he was nervous. The first thing 
was to find out if possible where they really were, but 
that was a difficult task. The street over which they 
rattled was utterly dark with the gloom of a smoky 
city added to the night. There were no street lights 
except at wide intervals, and the buildings appeared 
to be blank walls of darkness, probably great ware- 
houses. The way was narrow, and entirely um» 
known. Gordon could not tell if he had ever been 
there before. He was sure from his knowledge of 
the stations that they had gone much farther than 
to East Liberty, and the darkness and loneliness of 
the region through which they were passing filled 
him again with a vague alarm. It occurred to him 
that he might be able to get the window sash downi 
and speak to the driver, and he struggled with the one 
on his own side for a while, with little result, for it 
seemed to have been plugged up with wads of paper 
all around. This fact renewed his anxiety. It be- 
gan to look as if there was intention in sealing up 
that carriage. He leaned over and felt around the 
sash of the opposite door and found the paper wads: 
there also. There certainly was intention. Not to 
alarm Celia he straightened back and went to work 


THE BEST MAN 


207 


again at his own window sash cautiously pulling out 
the paper until at last he could let down the glass. 

A rush of dank air rewarded his efforts, and the 
girl drew a breath of relief. Gordon never knew 
how near she had been to fainting at that moment. 
She was sitting perfectly quiet in her corner watch- 
ing him, her fears kept to herself, though her heart 
was beating wildly. She was convinced that the 
horse was running away. 

Gordon leaned his head out of the window, but 
immediately he caught the gleam of a revolver in 
a hand that hung at the side of the driver’s box, 
pointed downward straight toward his face as if 
with intention to be ready in case of need. The 
owner of the hand was not looking toward him, but 
was talking in muffled tones to the driver. They 
evidently had not heard the window let down, but 
were ready for the first sign of an attempt on the 
part of their victims to escape. 

Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating 
rapidly on the possibility of wrenching that revolver 
out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from where 
he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably 
locked in a trap, and the driver was very likely armed 
also. What chance would he have to save Celia if 
he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If he 
jvere alone he might knock that revolver out of the 


208 


THE BEST MAN 


man’s hand and spring from the window, taking his 
chance of getting away, but now he had Celia to 
think of and the case was different. Not for a uni- 
verse of governments could he leave a woman in 
such desperate straits. She must be considered first 
even ahead of the message. This was life and death. 

He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back 
in the carriage and quietly lifted the glass frame 
back into place. Then he laid a steady hand on 
Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her 
ear: 

“ I am afraid there’s something wrong with our 
driver. Can you be a little brave, — dear ? ” He 
did not know he had used the last word this time, 
but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden 
accession of trust. 

" Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “ You 
don’t think he has been drinking, do you ? ” 

“ Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the 
explanation. “ But keep calm. I think we can get 
out of this all right. Suppose you change seats with 
me and let me try if that door will open easily. We 
might want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up 
somewhere pretty soon.” 

Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s 
seat and he applied himself with all his strength and 
’Ugenuity gently manipulating the latch and pressing 


THE BEST MAN 


209 


his shoulder against the door, until at last to his joy 
it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would 
swing open. He had worked carefully, else the 
sudden giving of the latch would have thrown him 
out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his 
driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this 
time that he was being kidnapped, perhaps to be 
murdered, that every sense was on the alert. It was 
his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a 
crisis. It was the quality that the keen-eyed chief 
had valued most in him, and the final reason why he 
had been selected for this difficult task in place of 
an older and more experienced man who at times 
lost his head. 

The door to the outside world being open Gor- 
don cautiously took a survey of the enemy from that 
side. There was no gleaming weapon here. The 
man set grimly enough, laying on the whip and mut- 
tering curses to his bony horse who galloped reck- 
lessly on as if partaking of the desperate desires of 
his master. In the distance Gordon could hear the 
rumbling of an on-coming train. The street was 
still dark and scarcely a vehicle or person to be seen. 
There seemed no help at hand, and no opportunity 
to get out, for they were still rushing at a tremen- 
dous pace. An attempt to jump now would very 
likely result in broken limbs, which would onlydeave 
14 . 


210 


THE BEST MAN 


them in a worse plight than they were. He slipped 
back to his own seat and put Celia next to the free 
door again. She must be where she could get out 
first if the opportunity presented itself. Also, he 
must manage to throw out the suit-cases if possible 
on account of the letters and valuables they con- 
tained. 

Instinctively his hand sought Celia’s in the dark- 
ness again, and hers nestled into it in a frightened 
way as if his strength gave her comfort. 

Then, before they could speak or realize, there 
came the rushing sound of a train almost upon them 
and the cab came to a halt with a jerk, the driver 
pulling the horse far back on his haunches to stop 
him. The shock almost threw Celia to the floor, 
but Gordon’s arm about her steadied her, and in- 
stantly he was on the alert. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Glancing through the window he saw that they 
were in front of a railroad track upon which a long 
freight train was rushing madly along at a giddy 
pace for a mere freight. The driver had evidently 
hoped to pass this point before the train got there, 
but had failed. The train had an exultant sound as 
if it knew and had outwitted the driver. 

On one side of the street were high buildings and 
on the other a great lumber yard, between which 
and their carriage there stood a team of horses 
hitched to a covered wagon, from the back of which 
some boards protruded, and this was on the side next 
to Celia where the door would open! Gordon’s 
heart leaped up with hope and wonder over the 
miracle of their opportunity. The best thing about 
their situation was that their driver had stopped 
just a little back of the covered wagon, so that their 
door would open to the street directly behind the 
covered wagon. It made it possible for the carriage 
door to swing wide and for them to slip across 
behind the wagon without getting too near to the 
driver. Nothing could have been better arranged 
for their escape and the clatter of the empty freight 
cars drowned all sounds. 


211 


THE BEST MAN] 


212 


Without delay Gordon softly unlatched the doot* 
and swung it open whispering to Celia : 

“Go! Quick! Over there by the fence in the 
shadow. Don’t look around nor speak! Quick! 
I’ll come ! ” 

Trembling in every limb yet with brave starry 
eyes Celia slipped like a wraith from the carriage, 
stole behind the boards and melted into the shadow 
of the great fence of the lumber yard, her purple 
plumes mere depths of shadow against the smoky 
planks. Gordon, grasping the suit-cases, moved in- 
stantly after her, deftly and silently closing the car- 
riage door and dropping into the shadows behind 
the big wagon, scarcely able to believe as yet that 
they had really escaped. 

Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway, 
the posts being tall and thick. The gate itself was 
closed but it hung a few inches inside the line of the 
fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly 
and stood, flattening themselves back against the 
gate as closely as possible, scarcely daring to breathe, 
while the long freight clattered and rambled its way 
by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and 
laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet 
as they went ; then the vehicles impatiently took up 
their onward course. Gordon saw the driver look 
down at the window below him and glance back 


THE BEST MAN 


213 


hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other 
side of the box, looked down on his side. The glitter 
of something in his hand shone for an instant in the 
glare of the signal light over the track. Then the 
horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy 
gait over the track and up the cobbled street. They 
had started onward without getting down to look 
in the carriage and see if all were safe with their 
prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see 
if they had escaped. They evidently trusted in the 
means they had used to lock the carriage doors, and 
had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was in- 
credible, but it was true. Gordon drew a long 
breath of relief and relaxed from his strained posi- 
tion. The next thing was to get out of that neigh- 
borhood as swiftly as possible before those men 
had time to discover that their birds had flown. 
They would of course know at once where their 
departure had taken place and come back swiftly 
to search for them, with perhaps more men to help; 
and a second time escape would be impossible. 

Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand, 
and with the other drew Celia’s arm within his. 

“ Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he 
said softly. “ Are you all right? ” 

“ Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her 
eyes were shining bravely. 


£14 


THE BEST MAN 


“ Poor child ! ” his voice was very tender. 
“ Were you much frightened? ” 

“ A little,” she answered more bravely now. 

“ I shall have hard work to forgive myself for 
all this,” he said tenderly. “ But we mustn’t talk. 
[We have to get out of this quickly or they may come 
back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you 
can.” 

Celia bent her efforts to take long springing 
strides, and together they fairly skimmed the pave- 
ments, turning first this corner, then that, in the 
general direction from which Gordon thought they 
had come, until at last, three blocks away they 
caught the welcome whirr of a trolley, and breath- 
less, flew onward, just catching a car. They cared 
not where it went so that they were safe in a bright 
light with other people. No diamonds on any gen- 
tleman’s neckscarf ever shone to Celia’s eyes with 
so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on 
that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their 
fares and answered Gordon’s questions about how 
to get to East Liberty station; and their pleasant 
homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now 
that they were safe at last the tears would come to 
her eyes. 

Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad 
that she did not know how terrible had been her 


THE BEST MAN 


215 


danger. His heart was still beating wildly with the 
thought of their marvellous escape, and his own 
present responsibility. He must run no further 
risks. They would keep to crowded trolleys, and 
trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was to 
get out of the city on the first train they could man- 
age to board. 

When they reached East Liberty station a long 
train was just coming in, all sleepers, and they* 
could hear the echo of a stentorian voice : 

“ Special for Harrisburg, Baltimore and Wash- 
ington ! All aboard ! ” and up at the further end of 
the platform Gordon saw the lank form of the de- 
tective whom he had tried to avoid an hour before 
at the other station. 

Without taking time for thought he hurried 
Celia forward and they sprang breathlessly aboard. 
Not until they were fairly in the cars and the wheels 
moving under them did it occur to him that his com- 
panion had had nothing to eat since about twelve 
o’clock. She must be famished, and in a fair way to 
be ill again. What a fool he was not to have thought ! 
They could have stopped in some obscure restaurant: 
along the way as well as not, and taken a later train, 
and yet it was safer to get away at once. Without 
doubt there were watchers at East Liberty, too, and 
he was lucky to have go'*- on the train without a 


£16 


THE BEST MAN 


challenge. He was sure that detective's face lighted 
strangely as he looked his way. Perhaps there was a 
buffet attached to the train. At least, he would in- 
vestigate. If there wasn’t, they must get off at the 
next stop — there must be another stop surely some* 8 
where near the city — he could not remember, but 
there surely must be. 

They had to wait sometime to get the attention 
of the conductor. He was having much trouble with 
some disgruntled passengers who each claimed to 
have the same berth. Gordon finally got his ear, 
and showing his state-room tickets inquired if they 
could be used on this train, 

“ No,” growled the worried conductor. 
“ You’re on the wrong train. This is a special, and 
every berth in the train is taken now but one upper.” 

“ Then, we’ll have to get off at the next stop, I 
suppose, and take the other train,” said Gordon dis- 
mally. 

“ There isn’t any other stop till somewhere in 
the middle of the night. I tell you this is a special, 
and we’re scheduled to go straight through. East 
Liberty’s the last stop.” 

“ Then what shall we do?” asked Gordon in- 
anely. 

I’m sure I don’t know,” snapped the conduc- 
tor. “ I’ve enough to do without mending other 


THE BEST MAN 


217 


people's mistakes. Stay aboard, I suppose, unless 
you want to jump off and commit suicide.’' 

“ But I have a lady with me who isn't at all 
well," said Gordon, with dignity. 

“ So much the worse for the lady,” replied the 
conductor inhumanly. “ There’s one upper berth, 
I told you." 

“ An upper berth wouldn’t do for her," said 
Gordon decidedly. “ She isn’t well, I tell you." 

“ Suit yourself ! ’’ snapped the harassed official. 
“ I reckon it’s better than nothing. You may not 
have it long. I’m likely to be asked for it the next 
half minute." 

“ Is that so? And is there absolutely nothing 
else?" 

“ Young man, I can’t waste words on you. I 
haven’t time. Take it or let it alone. It’s all one to 
me. There’s some standing room left in the day- 
coach, perhaps." 

“ I’ll take it," said Gordon meekly, wishing he 
could go back and undo the last half-hour. How in 
the world was he to go and tell Celia that he could 
provide her nothing better than an upper berth? 

She was sitting with her back to him, her face 
resting wearily on her hand against the window. 
Two men with largely checked suits, big seal rings, 
and diamond scarf-pins sat in the opposite seat. He 


THE BEST MAN 


£18 

knew it was most unpleasant for her. A nondescript 
woman with a very large hat and thick powder on 
her face shared Celia’s seat. He reflected that 
€< specials ” did not always bear a select company. 

“ Is there nothing you can do? ” he pleaded with 
the conductor, as he took the bit of pasteboard en- 
titling him to the last vacant berth. “ Don’t you 
suppose you could get some man to change and give 
her a lower berth ? It’ll be very hard for her. She 
isn’t used to upper berths.” 

His eyes rested wistfully on the bowed head. 
Celia had taken off her plumed hat, and the fitful 
light of the car played with the gold of her hair. 
The conductor’s grim eye softened as he looked. 

“ That the lady? I’ll see what I can do,” he said 
briefly, and stumped off to the next car. The miracle 
of her presence had worked its change upon him. 

Gordon went over to Celia and told her in a low 
tone that he hoped to have arrangements made for 
her soon, so that she could be comfortable! She 
must be fearfully tired with the excitement and 
fright and hurry. He added that he had made a 
great blunder in getting on this train, and now there 
was no chance to get off for several hours, perhaps, 
and probably no supper to be had. 

* Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Celia 
wearily. “ I’m not at all hungry.” She almost 


THE BEST MAN 


219 


smiled when she said it. He knew that what she 
wanted was to have her mind relieved about the 
letters. But she readily saw that there was no oppor- 
tunity now. 

She even seemed sorry at his troubled look, and 
tried to smile again through the settled sadness in 
her eyes. He could see she was very weary, and he 
felt like a great brute in care of a child, and men- 
tally berated himself for his own thoughtlessness. 

Gordon started off to search for something to 
eat for her, and was more successful than he had 
dared hope. The newsboy had two chicken sand- 
wiches left, and these, with the addition of a fine 
orange, a box of chocolates, and a glass of ice- water, 
he presently, brought to her, and was rewarded by a 
smile this time, almost as warm and intimate as those 
she had given him during their beautiful day. 

But he could not sit beside her, for the places 
were all taken, and he could not stand in the aisle 
and talk, for the porter was constantly running back 
and forth making up the berths. There seemed to 
be a congested state of things in the whole train, 
every seat being full and men standing in the aisles. 
He noticed now that they all wore badges of some 
fraternal order. It was doubtless a delegation to 
some great convention, upon which they had in- 
truded. They were a good-natured, noisy, happy 


220 


THE BEST MAN 


crowd, but not anywhere among them was to be 
found a quiet spot where he and Celia could go on 
with their suddenly interrupted conversation. Pres- 
ently the conductor came to him and said he had 
found a gentleman who would give the lady his 
lower berth and take her upper one. It was already 
made up, and the lady might take possession at once. 

Gordon made the exchange of tickets, and imme- 
diately escorted Celia to it. He found her most glad 
to go for she was now unutterably weary, and was 
longing to get away from the light and noise about 
her. 

He led the way with the suit-cases, hoping that 
in the other car there would be some spot where 
they could talk for a few minutes. But he was dis- 
appointed. It was even fuller than in the first car. 
He arranged everything for her comfort as far as 
possible, disposed of her hat and fixed her suit-case 
so that she could open it, but even while he was doing 
it there were people crowding by, and no private 
conversation could be had. He stepped back when 
all was arranged and held the curtain aside that she 
might sit on the edge of her berth. Then stooping 
over he whispered : 

“ Try to trust me until morning. I’ll explain it 
all to you then, so that you will understand how I 


THE BEST MAN 


m 


have had nothing to do with those letters. Forget 
it, and try to rest. Will you? ” 

His tone was wistful. He had never wanted to 
do anything so much in all his life as to stoop and 
kiss those sweet lips, and the lovely eyes that looked 
up at him out of the dusky shadows of the berth, 
filled with fear and longing. They looked more 
than ever like the blue tired flowers that drooped 
from her gown wearily. But he held himself with 
a firm hand. She was not his to kiss. When she 
knew how he had deceived her, she would probably 
never give him the right to kiss her. 

“ I will try,” she murmured in answer to his 
question, and then added : “ But where will you 
be ? Is your berth near by ? ” 

“ Not far away — that is, I had to take a place in 
another car, they are so crowded.” 

“ Oh ! ” she said a little anxiously. " Are you 
Sure you have a good comfortable place?” 

“ Oh, yes, I shall be all right,” he answered joy- 
ously. It was so wonderful to have her care whether 
he was comfortable or not. 

The porter was making up the opposite berth, 
and there was no room to stand longer, so he bade 
her good night, she putting out her hand for a fare- 
well. For an instant he held it close, with gentle 
pressure, as if to reassure her, then he went away 


222 


THE BEST MAN 


to the day-coach, and settled down into a hard 
corner at the very back of the car, drawing his trav- 
elling cap over his eyes, and letting his heart beat 
out wild joy over that little touch of her dear hand. 
Wave after wave of sweetness went over him, thrill- 
ing his very soul with a joy he had never known 
before. 

And this was love! And what kind of a wretch 
was he, presuming to love like this a woman who 
was the promised bride of another man! Ah, but 
such a man ! A villain ! A brute, who had used his 
power over her to make her suffer tortures! Had 
a man like that a right to claim her? His whole 
being answered “ no.” 

Then the memory of the look in her eyes, the 
turn of her head, the soft touch of her fingers as 
they lay for that instant in his, the inflection of 
her voice, would send that wave of sweetness over 
his senses, his heart would thrill anew, and he would 
forget the wretch who stood between him and this 
lovely girl whom he knew now he loved as he had 
never dreamed a man could love. 

Gradually his mind steadied itself under the 
sweet intoxication, and he began to wonder just 
what he should say to her in the morning. It was 
a good thing he had not had further opportunity to 
talk with her that night, for he could not have told 


THE BEST MAN 


223 


her everything; and now if all went well they would 
be in Washington in the morning, and he might 
make some excuse till after he had delivered his 
message. Then he would be free to tell the whole 
story, and lay his case before her for decision. His 
heart throbbed with ecstasy as he thought of the 
possibility of her forgiving him, and yet it seemed 
most unlikely. Sometimes he would let his wild 
longings fancy for just an instant what joy it would 
be if she could be induced to let the marriage stand. 
But he told himself at the same time that that could 
never be. It was very likely that there was some- 
one else in New York to whom her heart would 
turn if she were free from the scoundrel who had 
threatened her into a compulsory marriage. He 
would promise to help her, protect her, defend her 
from the man who was evidently using blackmail 
to get her into his power for some purpose; most 
likely for the sake of having control of her property. 
At least it would be some comfort to be able to help 
her out of her trouble. And yet, would she ever trust 
a man who had even unwittingly allowed her to be 
bound by the sacred tie of - marriage to an utter 
stranger ? 

And thus, amid hope and fear, the night whirled 
itself away. Forward in the sleeper the girl lay wide 
awake for a long time. In the middle of the night 


224 


THE BEST MAN 


a thought suddenly evolved itself out of the black- 
ness of her curtained couch. She sat upright alertly 
and stared into the darkness, as if it were a thing 
that she could catch and handle and examine. The 
thought was born out of a dreamy vision of the crisp 
brown waves, almost curls if they had not been so 
short and thick, that covered the head of the man 
who had lain sleeping outside her curtains in the 
early morning. It came to her with sudden force 
that not so had been the hair of the boy George 
Hayne, who used to trouble her girlish days. His 
was thin and black and oily, collecting naturally into 
little isolated strings with the least warmth, and 
giving him the appearance of a kitten who had been 
out in the rain. One lock, how well she remembered 
that lock ! — one lock on the very crown of his head 
had always refused to lie down, no matter how 
much persuasion was brought to bear upon it. It 
had been the one point on which the self-satisfied 
George had been pregnable, his hair, that scalp lock 
that would always arise stiffly, oilily, from the top 
of his head. The hair she had looked at admiringly 
that morning in the dawning crimson of the rising 
sun had not been that way. It had curved cling- 
ingly to the shape of the fine head as if it loved to 
go that way. It was beautiful and fine and burnished 
with a sense of life and vigor in its every wave. 


THE BEST MAN 


225 

Could hair change in ten years? Could it grow 
brown where it had been black? Could it become 
glossy instead of dull and oily? Could it take on the 
signs of natural wave where it had been as straight 
as a die? Could it grow like fur where it had been 
so thin? 

The girl could not solve the problem, but the 
thought was most startling and brought with it many 
suggestive possibilities that were most disturbing. 
[Yet gradually out of the darkness she drew a sort 
of comfort in her dawning enlightenment. Two 
things she had to go on in her strange premises, he 
had said he did not write the letters, and his hair 
was not the same. Who then was he? Her hus- 
band now undoubtedly, but who? And if deeds and 
hair could change so materially, why not spirits ? At 
least he was not the same as she had feared and 
dreaded. There was so much comfort. 

And at last she lay down and slept. 


10 


CHAPTER XIV 


They were late coming into Washington, for the 
Special had been sidetracked in the night for several 
express trains, and the noisy crowd who had kept 
one another awake till after midnight made up by 
sleeping far into the morning. 

Three times did Gordon make the journey three 
cars front to see if his companion of yesterday were 
awake and needed anything, but each time found 
the curtains drawn and still, and each time he went 
slowly back again to his seat in the crowded day- 
coach. 

It was not until the white dome of the capitol, 
and the tall needle of the monument, were painted 
soft and vision-like against the sky, reminding one 
of the pictures of the heavenly city in the story of 
Pilgrim’s Progress, and faintly suggesting a new 
and visionary world, that he sought her again, and 
found her fully ready, standing in the aisle while 
the porter put up the berth out of the way. Beneath 
the great brim of her purple hat, where the soft 
fronds of her plumes trembled with the motion of 
the train, she lifted sweet eyes to him, as if she were 
both glad and frightened to see him. And then that 
ecstasy shot through him again, as he realized sud- 
226 


THE BEST MAN 




Idenly what it would be to have her for his life-com- 
panion, to feel her looks of gladness were all for 
him, and have the right to take all fright away from 
her. 

They could only smile at each other for good- 
morning, for everybody was standing up and being 
brushed, and pushing here and there for suit-cases 
and lost umbrellas; and everybody talked loudly, 
and laughed a great deal, and told how late the train 
was. Then at last they were there, and could get 
out and walk silently side by side in the noisy pro- 
cession through the station to the sidewalk. 

What little things sometimes change a lifetime, 
and make for our safety or our destruction ! That 
very morning three keen watchers were set to guard 
that station at Washington to hunt out the govern- 
ment spy who had stolen back the stolen message, 
and take him, message and all, dead or alive, back 
to New York; for the man who could testify against 
the Holman Combination was not to be let live if 
there was such a thing as getting him out of the 
way. But they never thought to watch the Special 
which was supposed to carry only delegates to the 
great convention. He could not possibly be on that ! 
They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh, for 
they had been so advised by telegram the evening 
before by one of their company who had seen him 


THE BEST MAN 


buying a sleeper ticket for Washington, but they felt 
safe about that Special, for they had made inquiries 
and been told no one but delegates could possibly 
come on it. They had done their work thoroughly, 
and were on hand with every possible plan perfected 
for bagging their game, but they took the time 
when the Pittsburgh Special was expected to arrive 
for eating a hearty breakfast in the restaurant across 
the street from the station. Two of them emerged 
from the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to 
meet the next Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, hav- 
ing placed the lady in a closed carriage, was getting 
in himself. 

If the carriage had stood in any other spot along 
the pavement in front of the station, they never 
would have seen him, but, as it was, they had a full 
view of him; and because they were Washington 
men, and experts in their line, they recognized him 
at once, and knew their plans had failed, and that 
only by extreme measures could they hope to pre- 
vent the delivery of the message which would mean 
downfall and disaster to them and their schemes. 

As Gordon slammed shut the door of the car- 
riage, he caught a vision of his two enemies point- 
ing excitedly toward him, and he knew that the 
blood-hounds were on the scent. 

His heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided 


THE BEST MAN 


229 


between the message and the lady. What should he 
do i Drive at once to the home of his chief and de- 
liver the message, or leave the girl at his rooms, 
’phone for a faster conveyance and trust to getting 
to his chief ahead of his pursuers? 

“ Don’t let anything hinder you ! Don’t let any- 
thing hinder you! Make it a matter of life and 
death ! ” rang the little ditty in his ears, and now it 
seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the 
message. And yet — “ a matter of life and death ! ” 
He could not, must not, might not, take the lady 
with him into danger. If he must be in danger of 
$eath he did not want to die having exposed an in- 
nocent stranger to the same. 

Then there was another point to be thought of. 

He had already told the driver to take him to his 
apartments, and to drive as rapidly as possible. It 
would not do to stop him now and change the direc- 
tions, for a pistol-shot could easily reach him yet; 
and, coming from a crowd, who would be suspected? 
His enemies were standing on the threshold of a 
place where there were many of their kind to pro- 
tect them, and none of his friends knew of his com- 
ing. It would be a race for life from now on to 
the finish. 

Celia wa^ looking out with interest at the streets, 
recognizing landmarks with wonder, and did not 


230 


THE BEST MAN 


notice Gordon’s white, set face and burning eyes as 
he strained his vision to note how fast the horse 
was going. Oh, if the driver would only turn off 
at the next corner into the side street they could 
not watch the carriage so far, but it was not likely, 
for this was the most direct road, and yet — yes, he 
had turned ! Joy ! The street here was so crowded 
that he had sought the narrower, less crowded way 
that he might go the faster. 

It seemed an age to him before they stopped at 
his apartments. To Celia, it had been but a short 
ride, in which familiar scenes had brought her 
pleasure, for she recognized that she was not in 
strange Chicago, but in Washington, a city often 
visited. Somehow she felt it was an omen of a 
better future than she had feared. 

“ Oh, why didn’t you tell me ? ” she smiled to 
Gordon. “ It is Washington, dear old Washington.” 

Somehow he controlled the tumult in his heart 
and smiled back, saying in a voice quite natural : 

“ I am so glad you like it.” 

She seemed to understand that they could not 
talk until they reached a quiet place somewhere, and 
she did not trouble him with questions. Instead — 
she looked from the window, or watched him fur- 
tively, comparing him with her memory of George 
Hayne, and wondering in her own thoughts. She was 


THE BEST MAN 


231 


glad to have them to herself for just this little bit, 
for now that the morning had come she was almost 
afraid of revelation, what it might bring forth. 
And so it came about that they took the swift ride in 
more or less silence, and neither thought it strange. 

As the carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hur- 
ried voice, tense with excitement, but her own nerves 
were on a strain also, and she did not notice. 

“ We get out here.” 

He had the fare ready for the driver, and, step- 
ping out, hurried Celia into the shelter of the hall- 
way. It happened that an elevator had just come 
down, so it was but a second more before they were 
up safe in the hall before his own apartment. 

Taking a latch-key from his pocket, he applied 
it to the door, flung it open, and ushered Celia to a 
large leather chair in the middle of the room. Then, 
stepping quickly to the side of the room, he touched 
a bell, and from it went to the telephone, with an 
“ Excuse me, please, this is necessary,” to the girl, 
who sat astonished, wondering at the homelikeness 
of the room and at the “ at-homeness ” of the man. 
She had expected to be taken to a hotel. This 
seemed to be a private apartment with which he was 
perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some 
friend. But how, after an absence of years, could 
he remember just where to go, which door and which 


232 


ME BEST MAN 


elevator to take, and how to fit the key with so accus- 
tomed a hand? Then her attention was arrested by 
his voice: 

“ Give me 254 L please,” he said. . . . “ Is 

this 254 L? . . . Is Mr. Osborne in? . . . You 
say he has not gone to the office yet? . . . 

May I speak with him? ... Is this Mr. Os- 
borne? ... I did not expect you to know my 
voice. . . . Yes, sir; just arrived, and all safe 

so far. Shall I bring it to the house or the office? 
. . . The house? ... All right, sir. Im- 
mediately. . . . By the way, I am sure Hale 

and Burke are on my track. They saw me at the 

station. . . .To your house? . . . You 

will wait until I come? . . . All right, sir. 

Yes, immediately. . . . Sure, I’ll take precau- 
tion. . . . Good-by.” 

With the closing words came a tap at the door. 

“ Come, Henry,” he answered, as the astonished 
girl turned toward the door. “ Henry, you will go 
down, please, to the restaurant, and bring up a menu 
card. This lady will select what she would like to 
have, and you will serve breakfast for her in this 
room as soon as possible. I shall be out for perhaps 
an hour, and, meantime, you will obey any orders 
she may give you.” 

He did not introduce her as his wife, but she 


THE BEST MAN 


233 


did not notice the omission. She had suddenly be- 
come aware of a strange, distraught haste in his 
manner, and when he said he was going out alarm 
seized her, she could not tell why. 

The man bowed deferentially to his master, 
looked his admiration and devotion to the lady, 
waited long enough to say: 

“ I’se mighty glad to see you safe back, sah — ” 
and disappeared to obey orders. 

Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation, 
but he was already at the telephone again : 

“46! . . . Is this the Garage? . . . 

This is The Harris Apartments. . . . Can you 

send Thomas with a closed car to the rear door im- 
mediately? . . . Yes. . . . No, I want 

Thomas, and a car that can speed. . . . Yes, 

the rear door, rear , and at once. . . . What? 

. . . What’s that? . . . But I must. . . . 

It’s official business. . . . Well, I thought so. 

Hurry them up. Good-by.” 

He turned and saw her troubled gaze following 
him with growing fear in her eyes. 

“What is the matter?” she asked anxiously. 
" Has something happened ? ” 

Just one moment he paused, and, coming toward 
her, laid his hands on hers tenderly. 

“ Nothing the matter at all,” he said soothingly. 


234 


THE BEST MAN 


“ At least nothing that need worry you. It is just 
a matter of pressing business. I’m sorry to have 
to go from you for a little while, but it is necessary. 
I cannot explain to you until I return. You will 
trust me? You will not worry? ” 

“ I will try!” 

Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were filled 
with tears. Again he felt that intense longing to 
lay his lips upon hers and comfort her, but he put it 
from him. 

“ There is nothing to feel sad about,” he said, 
Smiling gently. “ It is nothing tragic only there is 

need for haste, for if I wait, I may fail yet It 

is something that means a great deal to me. When 
I come back I will explain all.” 

“Go!” she said, putting out her hands in a 
gesture of resignation, as if she would hurry him 
from her. And though she was burning to know 
what it all meant there was that about him that com- 
pelled her to trust him and to wait. 

Then his control almost went from him. He 
nearly took those hands in his and kissed them, but 
he did not. Instead, he went with swift steps to 
his bedroom door, threw open a chiffonier drawer, 
and took therefrom something small and sinister. 
She could see the gleam of its polished metal, and 
she sensed a strange little menace in the click as he 


THE BEST MAN 


23 5 


did something to it, she could not see what, because 
his back was to her. He came out with his hand in 
his pocket, as if he had just hidden something there. 

She was not familiar with firearms. Her mother 
had been afraid of them and her brother had never 
flourished any around the house, yet she knew by 
instinct that some weapon of defence was in Gordon's 
possession ; and a nameless horror rose in her heart 
and shone from her blue eyes, but she would not 
speak a word to let him know it. If he had not been 
in such haste, he would have seen. Her horror 
would have been still greater if she had known that 
he already carried one loaded revolver and was 
taking a second in case of an emergency. 

“ Don’t worry,” he called as he hurried out the 
door. “ Henry will get anything you need, and I 
shall soon be back.” 

The door closed and he was gone. She heard 
his quick step down the hall, heard the elevator door 
slide and slam again, and then she knew he was gone 
down. Outside an automobile sounded and she 
seemed to hear again his words at the phone, “ The 
rear door.” Why had he gone to the rear door? 
t Was he in hiding? Was he flying from someone? 
What, oh what, did it mean ? 

Without stopping to reason it out, she flew 
across the room and opened the door of the bedroom 


236 


THE BEST MAN 


he had just left, then through it passed swiftly to a 
bath-room beyond. Yes, there was a window. 
Would it be the one? Could she see him? And 
what good would it do her if she could? 

She crowded close to the window. There was a 
heavy sash with stained glass, but she selected a 
clear bit of yellow and put her eye close. Yes, there 
was a closed automobile just below her, and it had 
started away from the building. He had gone, then. 
Where? 

Her mind was a blank for a few minutes. She 
went slowly, mechanically back to the other room 
without noticing anything about her, sat down in 
the chair, putting her hands to her temples, and 
tried to think. Back to the moment in the church 
where he had appeared at her side and the service 
had begun. Something had told her then that he 
was different, and yet there had been those letters, 
and how could it possibly be that he had not written 
them? He was gone on some dangerous business.;, 
Of that she felt sure. There had been some caution 
given him by the man to whom he first ’phoned. He 
had promised to take precaution — that meant the 
little, wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket. Per- 
haps some harm would come to him, and she would 
never know. And then she stared at the opposite 
wall with wonder-filled eyes. Well, and su^uose it 


fHE BEST MAN 


237 


did? Why did she care? Was he not the man 
whose power over her but two short days ago would 
have made her welcome death as her deliverer? 
Why was all changed now? Just because he had 
smiled upon her and been kind? Had given her a 
few wild flowers and said her eyes were like them? 
Had hair that waved instead of being straight and 
thin? And where was all her loyalty to her dear 
dead father’s memory? How could she mind that 
danger should come to one who had threatened to 
tell terrible lies that should blacken him in the 
thoughts of people who had loved him? Had she 
forgotten the letters? Was she willing to forgive 
all just because he had declared that he did not write 
them? How foolish! He said he could prove that 
he did not, but of course that was all nonsense. He 
must have written them. And yet there was the 
wave in his hair, and the kindness in his eyes. And 
he had looked — oh, he had looked terrible things 
when he had read that letter; as if he would like to 
wreak vengeance on the man who had written it. 
Could a man masquerade that way? 

And then a new solution to the problem came to 
her. Suppose this — whoever he was — this man who 
had married her, had gone out to find and punish 
George Hayne? Suppose But then she cov- 

ered her eyes with her hands and shuddered. Yet 


238 


THE BEST MAN 


why should she care? But she did. Suppose he 
should be killed, himself ! Who was he if not George 
Hayne and how did he come to take his place? Was 
it just another of George’s terrible tricks upon her? 

A quick vision came of their bringing him back 
to her. He would lie, perhaps, on that great crim- 
son leather couch over there, just as he had lain in 
the dawning of the morning in the state-room of the 
train, with his hands hanging limp, and one perhaps 
across his breast, as if he were guarding something, 
and his bright waves of brown hair lying heavy 
about his forehead — only, his forehead would be 
white, so white and cold, with a little blue mark in 
his temple perhaps. 

The footsteps of the man Henry brought her 
back to the present again. She smiled at him pleas- 
antly as he entered, and answered his questions 
about what she would have for breakfast; but it was 
he who selected the menu, not she, and after he had 
gone she could not have told what she had ordered. 
She could not. get away from the vision on the 
couch. She closed her eyes and pressed her cold 
fingers against her eyeballs to drive it away, but still 
her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her. 

The colored man came back presently with a 
loaded tray, and set it down on a little table which 
he wheeled before her, as though he had done it 


THE BEST MAN 


239 


many times before. She thanked him, and said there 
was nothing else she needed, so he went away. 

She toyed with the cup of delicious coffee which 
he had poured for her, and the few swallows she 
took gave her new heart. She broke a bit from a 
hot roll, and ate a little of the delicious steak, but 
still her mind was at work at the problem, and her 
heart was full of nameless anxiety. 

He had gone away without any breakfast him- 
self, and he had had no supper the night before, she 
was sure. He probably had given to her everything 
he could get on the train. She was haunted with 
regret because she had not shared with him. She 
got up and walked about the room, trying to shake 
off the horror that was upon her, and the dread of 
what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily 
she would have thought of sending a message to 
her mother and brother, but her mind was so 
troubled now that it never occurred to her. 

The walls of the room were tinted a soft greenish 
gray, and above the picture moulding they blended 
into a woodsy landscape with a hint of water, green- 
sward, and blue sky through interlacing branches. 
It reminded her of the little village they had seen as 
they started from the train in the early morning 
light. What a beautiful day they had spent together 


THE BEST MAN 


240 

and how it had changed her whole attitude of heart 
toward the man she had married ! 

Two or three fine pictures were hung in good 
lights. She studied them, and knew that the one 
who had selected and hung them was a judge of true 
art; but they did not hold her attention long, for as 
yet, she had not connected the room with the man 
for whom she waited. 

A handsome mahogany desk stood open in a 
broad space by the window. She was attracted by 
a little painted miniature of a woman. She took it 
up and studied the face. It was fine and sweet, with 
brown hair dressed low, and eyes that reminded her 
of the man who had just gone from her. Was this, 
then, the home of some relative with whom he had 
come to stop for a day or two, and, if so, where was 
the relative? The dress in the miniature was of a 
quarter of a century past, yet the face was young and 
sweet, as young, perhaps, as herself. She wondered 
who it was. She put the miniature back in place 
with caressing hand. She felt that she would like to 
know this woman with the tender eyes. She wished 
her here now, that she might tell her all her anxiety. 

Her eye wandered to the pile of letters, some of 
them official-looking ones, one or two in square, per- 
fumed envelopes, with high, angular writing. They 
were all addressed to Mr. Cyril Gordon. That was 


THE BEST MAN 


m 


strange! Who was Mr. Cyril Gordon? What had 
they — what had she — to do with him? Was he a 
friend whom George — whom they — were visiting 
for a few days? It was all bewildering. 

Then the telephone rang. 

Her heart beat wildly and she looked toward it 
as if it had been a human voice speaking and she 
had no power to answer. What should she do now ? 
Should she answer? Or should she wait for the 
man to come? Could the man hear the telephone 
bell or was she perhaps expected to answer? And 
yet if Mr. Cyril Gordon — well, somebody ought to 
answer. The 'phone rang insistently once more, 
and still a third time. What if he should be calling 
her ! Perhaps he was in distress. This thought sent 
her flying to the 'phone. She took down the receiver 
and called : 

“ Hello ! " and her voice sounded far away to 
herself. 

“ Is this Mr. Gordon’s apartment ? " 

“ Yes," she answered, for her eyes were resting 
on the pile of letters close at hand. 

“ Is Mr. Gordon there ? " 

“ No, he is not," she answered, growing more 
confident now and almost wishing she had not pre- 
sumed to answer a stranger's 'phone. 

“ Why, I just 'phoned to the office and they told 
16 


242 


THE BEST MAN 


me he had returned,” said a voice that had an im- 
perious note in it. “ Are you sure he isn’t there ?” 

“ Quite sure,” she replied. 

“ Who is this, please? ” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Celia trying to make 
time and knowing not how to reply. She was not 
any longer Miss Hathaway. Who was she? Mrs. 
Hayne? She shrank from the name. It was filled 
with horror for her. “ Who is this, I said,” snapped 
the other voice now. “ Is this the chambermaid ? 
Because if it is I’d like you to look around and 
inquire and be quite sure that Mr. Gordon isn’t 
there. I wish to speak with him about something 
very important.” 

Celia smiled. 

“ No, this is not the chambermaid,” she said 
sweetly, “ and I am quite sure Mr. Gordon is not 
here.” 

“ How long before he will be there ? ” 

“ I don’t know really, for I have but just come 
myself.” 

“ Who is this to whom I am talking? ” 

“ Why — just a friend,” she answered, wonder- 
ing if that were the best thing to say. 

“ Oh ! ” there was a long and contemplative pause 
at the other end. 


THE BEST MAN 


£43 


“ Well, could you give Mr. Gordon a message 
when he comes in ? ” 

“ Why certainly, I think so. Who is this ? ” 

“ Miss Bentley. Julia Bentley. He'll know,” 
replied the imperious one eagerly now. “ And tell 
him please that he is expected here to dinner to- 
night. We need him to complete the number, and 
he simply mustn’t fail me. Ill excuse him for going 
off in such a rush if he comes early and tells me all 
about it. Now you won’t forget, will you? You 
got the name, Bentley, did you? B, E, N, T, L, E, Y, 
you know. And you’ll tell him the minute he comes 
in?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Thank you ! What did you say your name 
was ? ” 

But Celia had hung up. Somehow the message 
annoyed her, she could not tell why. She wished 
she had not answered the ’phone. Whoever Mr. 
Cyril Gordon was what should she do if he should 
suddenly appear? And as for this imperious lady 
and her message she hoped she would never have to 
deliver it. On second thought why not write it and 
leave it on his desk with the pile of letters? She 
would do it. It would serve to pass away a few of 
these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully. 

She sat down and wrote : “ Miss Bentley wishes 


£44 


THE BEST MAN 


Mr. Gordon to dine with her this evening. She 
will pardon his running away the other day if he 
will come early.” She laid it beside the high angular 
writing on the square perfumed letters and wenf 
back to the leather chair too restless to rest yet too 
weary to stand up. 

She went presently to the back windows to look 
out, and then to the side ones. Across the house- 
tops she could catch a glimpse of domes and build- 
ings. There was the Congressional Library, which 
usually delighted her with its exquisite tones of gold 
and brown and white. But she had no eyes for it 
now. Beyond were more buildings, all set in the 
lovely foliage which was much farther developed 
than it had been in New York State. From another 
window she could get a glimpse of the Potomac 
shining in the morning sun. 

She wandered to the front windows and looked 
out. There were people passing and repassing. It 
was a busy street, but she could not make out 
whether it was one she knew or not. There were 
two men walking back and forth on the opposite 
side. They did not go further than the corner of the 
street either way. They looked across at the win- 
dows sometimes and pointed up, when they met, 
and once one of them took something out of his 
pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side, as if 


THE BEST MAN 


245 


to have it ready for use. It reminded her of the 
thing her husband had held in his hand in the bed- 
room and she shuddered. She watched them, fas- 
cinated, not able to draw herself away from the 
window. 

Now and then she would go to the rear winow, 
to see if there was any sign of the automobile re- 
turning, and then hurry back to the front, to see if 
the men were still there. Once she returned to the 
chair, and, lying back, shut her eyes, and let the 
memory of yesterday sweep over her in all its sweet 
details, up to the time when they had got into the 
way train and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty 
to her father. But now her heart was all on the 
other side, and she began to feel that there had been 
some dreadful mistake, somewhere, and be was 
surely all right. He could not, could not have writ- 
ten those terrible letters. Then again the details of 
their wild carriage ride in Pittsburgh and miracu- 
lous escape haunted her. There was something 
strange and unexplained about that which she must 
understand. 


CHAPTER XV 


Meantime, Gordon was speeding away to an- 
other part of the city by the fastest time an experi- 
enced chauffeur dared to make. About the time they 
turned the first corner into the avenue, two burly 
policemen sauntered casually into the pretty square 
in front of the house where lived the chief of the 
Secret Service. There was nothing about their de- 
meanor to show that they had been detailed there by 
special urgency, and three men who hurried to the 
little park just across the street from the house 
could not possibly know that their leisurely and 
careless stroll was the result of a hurried telephone 
message from the chief to police headquarters im- 
mediately after his message from Gordon. 

The policemen strolled by the house, greeted each 
other, and walked on around the square across the 
little park. They eyed the three men sitting idly on a 
bench, and passed leisurely on. They disappeared 
around a corner, and to the three men were out of 
the way. The latter did not know the hidden places 
where the officers took up their watch, and when an 
automobile appeared, and the three stealthily got up 
from their park bench and distributed themselves 
among the shrubbery near the walk, they knew not 
246 


THE BEST MAN 


247 


that their every movement was observed with keen 
attention. But they did wonder how it happened 
that those two policemen seemed to spring out of the 
ground suddenly, just as the auto came to a halt in 
front of the chief’s house. 

Gordon sprang out and up the steps with a 
bound, the door opening before him as if he were 
expected. The two grim and apparently indifferent 
policemen stood outside like two stone images on 
guard, while up the street with rhythmic sound rode 
two mounted police, also coming to a halt before the 
house as if for a purpose. The three men in the 
bushes hid their instruments of death, and would 
have slunk away had there been a chance ; but, turn- 
ing to make a hasty flight, they were met by three 
more policemen. There was the crack of a revolver 
as one of the three desperadoes tried a last reckless 
dash for freedom — and failed. The wretch went to 
justice with his right arm hanging limp by his side. 

Inside the house Gordon was delivering up his 
message, and as he laid it before his chief, and stood 
silent while the elder man read and pondered its 
tremendous import, it occurred to him for the first 
time that his chief would require some report of his 
journey, and the hindrances that had made him a 
whole day late in getting back to Washington. His 
heart stood still with sudden panic. What was he t<S 


248 


THE BEST MAN 


do ? How could he tell it all ? What right had he to? 
tell of his marriage to an unknown woman? A! 
marriage that perhaps was not a marriage. He 
could not know what the outcome would be until he 
had told the girl everything. As far as he himself 
was concerned he knew that the great joy of his life 
had come to him in her. Yet he could not hope that 
it would be so with her. And he must think of her 
and protect her good name in every way. If there 
should be such a thing ever as that she should con- 
sent to remain with him and be his wife he must 
never let a soul know but what the marriage had been 
planned long ago. It would not be fair to her. It 
would make life intolerable for them both either 
together or apart. And while he might be and doubt- 
less was perfectly safe in confiding in his chief, and 
asking him to keep silence about the matter, still he 
felt that even that would be a breach of faith with 
Celia. He must close his lips upon the story until 
he could talk with her and know her wishes. He 
drew a sigh of weariness. It was a long, hard way 
he had come, and it was not over. The worst ordeal 
would be his confession to the bride who was not his 
wife. 

The chief looked up. 

“ Could you make this out, Gordon? ” he asked* 


THE BEST MAN 


249 


noting keenly the young man's weary eyes, the 
strained, tense look about his mouth. 

“ Oh, yes sir; I saw it at once. I was almost 
afraid my eyes might betray the secret before I got 
away with it.” 

“ Then you know what you have saved the coun- 
try, and what you have been worth to the Service.” 

The young man flushed with pleasure. 

“ Thank you, sir,” he said, looking down. “ I 
understood it was important, and I am glad I was 
able to accomplish the errand without failing.” 

“ Have you reason to suppose you were followed, 
except for what you saw at the station in this city? ” 

“ Yes, sir; I am sure there were detectives after 
me as I was leaving New York. They were sus- 
picious of me. I saw one of the men who had been 
at the dinner with me watching me. The disguise — 
and — some circumstances — threw him off. He 
wasn't sure. Then, there was a man — you know 
him, Balder — at Pittsburgh? ” 

“ Pittsburgh!” 

“ Yes, you wonder how I got to Pittsburgh. 
You see, I was shadowed almost from the first I 
suspect, for when I reached the station in New York 
I was sure I recognized this man who had sat oppo- 
site me a few minutes before. I suppose my dis- 
guise, which you so thoughtfully provided, bothered 


250 


THE BEST MAN 


him, for though he followed me about at a little dis- 
tance he didn’t speak to me. I had to get on the 
first train that circumstances permitted, and perhaps 
the fact that it was a Chicago train made him think 
he was mistaken in me. Anyhojv I saw no more of 
him after the train left the station. Rather unex- 
pectedly I found I could get the drawing room com- 
partment, and went into immediate retirement, leav- 
ing the train at daylight where it was delayed on a 
side track, and walked across country till I found a 
conveyance that took me to a Pittsburgh train. It 
didn’t seem feasible to get away from the Chicago 
train any sooner as the train made no further stops, 
and it was rather late at night by the time I boarded 
it. I thought I would run less risk by making a de- 
tour. I never dreamed they would have watchers 
out for me at Pittsburgh, and I can’t think yet how 
they managed to get on my track, but almost the 
first minute I landed I spied Balder stretching his 
neck over the crowds. I bolted from the station at 
once and finding a carriage drawn up before the door 
just ready for me I got in and ordered them to drive 
me to East Liberty station. 

“ I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of 
handy closed carriages after this experience. I cer- 
tainly have reason to be. The door was no sooner 
closed on me than the driver began to race like mad 


THE BEST MAN 


251 


through the streets. I didn’t think much of it at 
first until he had been going some time, fully long 
enough to have reached East Liberty, and the ho^e 
was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw thav 
we were in a lonely district of the city that seemed 
unfamiliar. That alarmed me and I tapped on the 
window and called to the driver. He paid no atten- 
tion. Then I found the doors were fastened shut, 
and the windows plugged so they wouldn’t open. 

“ I discovered that an armed man rode beside 
the driver. I managed to get one of the doors open 
after a good deal of work, and escaped when we 
stopped for a freight train to pass ; but I’m satisfied 
that I was being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away 
just when I did you would never have heard of me 
again or the message either. I finally managed to 
reach East Liberty station and jumped on the first 
train that came in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder 
stretching his neck over the crowd. He must have 
seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when 
I got here. They just missed me by a half second. 
They went over to the restaurant — didn’t expect me 
on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m mighty 
glad to get that little paper into your possession and 
out of mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the 
whole, but I think you have the main facts.” 

There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of 


252 


THE BEST MAN 


the kind old chief as he put out his hand and grasped 
Gordon’s in a hearty shake ; but all he said was : 

“ And you are all worn out— I’ll guarantee you 
didn’t sleep much last night.” 

“ Well, no,” said Gordon; “ I had to sit up in a 
day-coach and share the seat with another man. 
Besides, I was somewhat excited.” 

“ Of course, of course!” puffed the old chief, 
coughing vigorously, and showing by his gruff atti- 
tude that he was deeply affected. “ Well, young 
man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department. 
Now you go home and take a good sleep. Take the 
whole day off if you wish, and then come down to- 
morrow morning* and tell me all about it. Isn’t there 
anything more I need to know at once that justice 
may be done ? ” 

“ I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of re- 
lief. “ There’s a list of the men who were at the 
dinner with me. I wrote them down from memory 
last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few 
scraps of conversation, which will show you just 
how deep the plot had gone. If I had not read the 
message and known its import, I should not have 
understood what they were talking about.” 

“ H-m! Yes. If there had been more time be- 
fore you started I might have told you all about it. 
Still, it seemed desirable that you should appear as 


THE BEST MAN 


258 


much at your ease as possible. I thought this would 
be best accomplished by your knowing nothing of 
the import of the writing when you first met the 
people.” 

“ I suppose it was as well that I did not know 
any more than I did. You are a great chief, sir ! I 
was deeply impressed anew with that fact as I saw 
how wonderfully you had planned for every possible 
emergency. It was simply great, sir.” 

“ Pooh ! Pooh ! Get you home and to bed,” 
'said the old chief quite brusquely. 

He touched a bell and a man appeared. 

“ Jessup, is the coast clear? ” he asked. 

“ Yessah,” declared the darky. “ Dey have jest 
hed a couple o’ shots in de pahk, an’ now dey tuk 
de villains off to der p’lice station. De officers is 
but der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.” 

“ Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come 

the office till ten in the morning. Then come 
1 straight to my private room.” 

Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded 
by the gray-haired servant. He was surprised to 
find the policemen outside, and wondered still more 
that they seemed to be going one in front and the 
•other behind him as he rode along. He was greatly 
relieved that he had not been called upon to give the 
Stfhole story. His heart was filled with anxiety now 


254 


THE BEST MAN 


to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and 
yet he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had 
to face in all his life. He sat back on the cushions, 
and, covering his face with his hands, tried to think 
how he should begin, but he could see nothing but her 
sweet eyes filled with tears, think of nothing but the 
way she had looked and smiled during the beautiful 
morning they had spent together in the little town 
of Milton. Beautiful little Milton. Should he ever 
see it again ? 

Celia at her window grew more and more nerv- 
ous as an hour and then another half hour slipped 
slowly away, and still he did not come. Then two 
mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street 
following an automobile, in which sat the man for 
whom she waited. 

She had no eyes now for the men who had been 
lurking across the way, and when she thought to 
look for them again she saw them running in the 
opposite direction as fast as they could go, making 
wild gestures for a car to stop for them. 

She stood by the window and saw Gordon get 
out of the car, and disappear into the building be- 
low, saw the car wheel and curve away and the 
mounted police take up their stand on either corner; 
heard the clang of the elevator as it started up, and 
the clash of its door as it stopped at that floor ; heard 


THE BEST MAN 


255 


steps coming on toward the door, and the key in the 
latch. Then she turned and looked at him, her two 
hands clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning, 
glad and fearful all at once. 

“ Oh, I have been so frightened about you ! I 
am so glad you have come ! ” she said, and caught 
her voice in a sob as she took one little step toward 
him. 

He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it 
might land, and went to meet her, a great light glow- 
ing in his tired eyes, his arms outstretched to hers. 

“ And did you care? ” he asked in a voice of 
almost awe. “ Dear, did you care what became of 
'pie?” 

He had come quite close to her now. 

“ Oh yes, I cared! I could not help it.” There 
was a real sob in her voice now, though her eyes 
jvere shining. 

His arms went around her hungrily, as if he 
would draw her to him in spite of everything; yet 
he kept them so encircling, without touching her, 
like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul 
of his beloved. Looking down into her face he 
breathed softly: 

“ Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you 
tlose and kiss you ! ” 

She looked up with bated breath, and thought 


256 


THE BEST MAN 


she understood. Then, with a lovely gesture of sur- 
render, she whispered, “ I can trust you.” Her 
lashes were drooping now over her eyes. 

“ Not until you know all,” he said, and put her 
gently from him into the great arm-chair, with a 
look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt she 
never would forget. 

“ Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear 
making her weak from head to foot. She laid her 
hand across her heart, as if to help steady its beating. 

He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite 
her chair, and sat down, his head drooping, his eyes 
down. He dreaded to begin. I 

She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his! 
bowed head. j 

Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and 
a tender light came into his face. 

“ It is a strange story,” he said. “ I don’t know; 
what you will think of me after it is told, but I want 
you to know that, blundering, stupid, even criminal, 
though you may think me, I would sooner die this 
minute than cause you one more breath of suffer- 
ing.” 

Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the 
ready tears sprang into them, tears that sparkled 
through the sunshine of a great joy that illumined 
her whole face. 


THE BEST MAN 


257 


“ Please go on,” she said softly, and added very 
gently, “ I believe you.” 

But even with those words in his ears the begin- 
ning was not easy. Gordon drew a deep breath and 
launched forth. 

“ I am not the man you think,” he said, and 
looked at her to see how she would take it. “ My 
name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril 
Gordon.” 

As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim 
and long that it may not strike the mark, so he sent 
his truth home to her understanding, and waited in 
breathless silence, hoping against hope that this 
might not turn her against him. 

“ Oh ! ” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle 
were solving itself. “Oh!” — this time not alto- 
gether in surprise, nor as if the fact were displeas- 
ing. She looked at him expectantly for further 
revelation, and he plunged into his story headlong. 

“ I’m a member of the Secret Service, — head- 
quarters here in Washington, — and day before yes- 
terday I was sent to New York on an important 
errand. A message of great import written in a pri- 
vate code had been stolen from one of our men. I 
was sent to get it before they could decipher it. 
The message involved matters of such tremendous 
significance that I was ordered to go under an as- 
17 


258 


THE BEST MAN 


sumed name, and on no account to let any one know 
of my mission. My orders were to get the message, 
and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all 
haste to Washington. I went with the full under- 
standing that I might even be called upon to risk my 
life.” 

He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with 
hands clasped together at her throat. 

He hurried on, not to cause her any needless 
anxiety. 

“ I won’t weary you with details. There were a 
good many annoying hindrances on the way, which 
served to make me nervous, but I carried out the pro- 
gramme laid down by my chief, and succeeded in 
getting possession of the message and making my 
escape from the house of the man who had stolen it. 
As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it 
could be but a matter of a few seconds at longest 
before six furious men would be on my track, who 
would stop at nothing to get back what I had taken 
from them, I saw a carriage standing almost before 
the house. The driver took me for the man he 
awaited, and I lost no time in taking advantage of his 
mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as fast as 
he could. I intended to give him further directions, 
but he had evidently had them from another quarter, 
and I thought I could call to him as soon as we were 


THE BEST MAN 


259 


out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to my 
situation I soon became sure that an automobile and 
a motor-cycle were following me. I recognized one 
of the men in the car as the man who sat opposite 
to me at the table a few minutes before. My coach- 
man drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the 
message so that if I were caught it would not be 
found, and to put on a slight disguise — some eye- 
brows and things the chief had given me. Before 
I knew where I was, the carriage had stopped before 
a building. At first I thought it was a prison — and 
the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind 
me. I felt that I was pretty w r ell trapped.” 

The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not dar- 
ing to look up, hurried on with his story. 

“ There isn’t much more to tell that you do not 
already know. I soon discovered the building was 
a church, not a prison. What happened afterward 
was the result of my extreme perturbation of mind, 
I suppose. I cannot account for my stupidity and 
subsequent cowardice in any other way. Neither 
was it possible for me to explain matters satisfac* 
torily at any time during the whole mix-up, on ac- 
count of the trust which I carried, and which I 
could on no account reveal even in confidence, or put 
in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at 
first my commission and how to get safely through 


260 


THE BEST MAN 


it all was the only thing of importance to me. If you 
keep this in mind perhaps you will be able to judge 
me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage 
came to a halt was how to escape from those two 
pursuers, and that more or less pervaded my mind 
during what followed so that ordinary matters which 
at another time would have been at once clear to 
me, meant nothing at all. You see, the instant that 
carriage came to a standstill someone threw open the 
door, and I heard a voice call ‘ Where is the best 
man ? ’ Then another voice said, ‘ Here he is ! ’ I 
took it that they thought I was best man, but would 
soon discover that I wasn’t when I came into the 
light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I 
should have done so, and vanished in the dark, but 
everybody surrounded me, and seemed to think I 
was all right. The two men who had followed were 
close behind eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that 
they were to blame for that wild ride we took 
in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that 
the man I was supposed to be had been away from 
this country for ten years, and of course then 
they would not be very critical. I tried twice to ex- 
plain that there was a mistake, but both times they 
misunderstood me and thought I was saying I 
couldn’t go in the procession because I hadn’t prac- 
tised. I don’t just know how I came to be in such 


THE BEST MAN 


261 


a dreadful mess. It would seem as if it ought to 
have been a very easy thing to say I had got into the 
wrong carriage and they must excuse me, that I 
wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time 
to think nor to speak. They just turned me over 
from one man to another and took everything for 
granted, and I, finding that I would have to break 
loose and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape, 
reflected that there would be no harm in marching 
down the aisle as best man in a delayed wedding, if 
that was all there was to do. I could disappear as 
soon as the ceremony was over, and no one would be 
the wiser. The real best man would probably turn 
up and then they might wonder as they pleased for 
I would be far away and perhaps this was as good 
a place as any in which to hide for half an hour until 
my pursuers were baffled and well on their way seek- 
ing elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made 
a grave mistake in allowing even so much deception, 
but I did not see any harm in it then, and they all 
seemed in great distress for the ceremony to go for- 
ward. Bear in mind also that I was at that time 
entirely taken up with the importance of hiding my 
message until I could take it safely to my chief. 
Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best 
man was late to the wedding and they were willing to 
use me in his place what harm could come from it? 


262 


THE BEST MAN 


He certainly deserved it for being late and if he came 
in during the ceremony he would think some one else 
had been put in his place. They introduced me to 
your brother — Jefferson. I thought he was the 
bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your 
hand in mine ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” she moaned, and the little hand went to 
help its mate cover her face. 

“ I knew it ! ” he said bitterly. “ I knew you 
would feel just that way as soon as you knew. I 
don’t blame you. I deserve it ! I was a fool, a vil- 
lain, a dumb brute — whatever you have a mind to 
call me ! You can’t begin to understand how I have 
suffered for you since this happened, and how I have 
blamed myself.” 

He got up suddenly and strode over to the win- 
dow, frowning down into the sunlit street, and won- 
dering how it was that everybody seemed to be going 
on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when ^or him 
life had suddenly come to a standstill. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The room was very still. The girl did not even 
sob. He turned after a moment and went back to 
that bowed golden head there in the deep crimson 
chair. 

“ Look here/’ he said, “ I know you can’t ever 
forgive me. I don’t expect it! I don’t deserve it! 
But please don’t feel so awfully about it. I’ll ex- 
plain it all to every one. I’ll make it all right for 
you. I’ll take every bit of blame on myself, and get 
plenty of witnesses to prove all about it ” 

The girl looked up with sorrow and surprise in 
her wet eyes. 

“ Why, I do not blame you,” she said, mourn- 
fully. “ I cannot see how you were to blame. It 
was no one’s fault. It was just an unusual happen- 
ing — a strange set of circumstances. I could not 
blame you. There is nothing to forgive, and if there 
were I would gladly forgive it ! ” 

“ Then what on earth makes you look so white 
and feel so distressed ? ” he asked in a distracted 
voice, as a man will sometimes look and talk to the 
woman he loves when she becomes a tearful problem 
of despair to his obtuse eyes. 

“ Oh, don’t you know ? ” 


263 


264 


THE BEST MAN 


“No, I don’t,” he said. “ You’re surely not 
mourning for that brute of a man to whom you had 
promised to sacrifice your life? ” 

She shook her head, and buried her face in her 
hands again. He could see that the tears were drop- 
ping between her fingers, and they seemed to fall red 
hot upon his heart. 

“ Then what is it? ” His tone was almost sharp 
in its demand, but she only cried the harder. Her 
slender shoulders were shaking with her grief now. 

He put his hand down softly and touched her 
bowed head. 

“Won’t you tell me, Dear?” he breathed, and, 
stooping, knelt beside her. 

The sobs ceased, and she was quite still for a 
moment, while his hand still lay on her hair with 
that gentle, pleading touch. 

“ It is — because you married me — in — that way 
— without knowing Oh, can’t you see how ter- 
rible ” 

Oh, the folly and blindness of love ! Gordon got 
up from his knees as if she had stung him. 

“ You need not feel bad about that any more,” 
he said in a hurt tone. “ Did I not tell you I would 
set you free at once? Surely no one in his senses 
could call you bound after such circumstances.” 

She was very still for an instant, as if he had 


THE BEST MAN 


265 


struck her, and then she raised her golden head, and 
a pair of sweet eyes suddenly grown haughty. 

“ You mean that / will set you free! ” she said 
coldly. “ I could not think of letting you be bound 
by a misunderstanding when you were under great 
stress of mind. You were in no wise to blame. / 
will set you freed’ 

“ As you please,” he retorted bitterly, turning 
toward the window again. “ It all amounts to the 
same thing. There is. nothing for you to feel bad 
about.” 

“ Yes, there is,” she answered, with a quick rush 
of feeling that broke through her assumed haughti- 
ness. “ I shall always feel that I have broken in 
upon your life. You have had a most trying expe- 
rience with me, and you never can quite forget it. 
Things won’t be the same ” 

She paused and the quiet tears chased each other 
eloquently down her face. 

“No,” said Gordon still bitterly; “things will 
never be the same for me. I shall always see you 
sitting there in my chair. I shall always be missing 
you from it! But I am glad — glad. I would never 
have known what I missed if it had not been for 
this.” He spoke almost savagely. 

He did not look around, but she was staring at 
him in astonishment, her blue eyes suddenly alight 


266 


THE BEST MAN 


“What do you mean? ” she asked softly. 

He wheeled round upon her. “ I mean that I 
shall never forget you ; that I do not want to f orget 
you. I should rather have had these two days of 
your sweet company, than all my lifetime in any 
other companionship.” 

“ Oh ! ” she breathed. “ Then, why — why did 
you say what you did about being free? ” 

“ I didn’t say anything about being free that I 
remember. It was you that said that.” 

“ I said I would set you free. I could not, of 
course, hold you to a bond you did not want ” 

“ But I did not say I did not want it. I said I 
■would not hold you if you did not want to stay.” 

“ Do you mean that if you had known me a little 
— that is, just as much as you know me now — and 
had come in there and found out your mistake be- 
fore it was too late, that you would have wanted to 
go on with it? ” 

She waited for his answer breathlessly. 

“If you had known me just as much as you do 
now, and had looked up and seen that it was I and 
not George Hayne you were marrying, would you 
have wanted to go on and be married ? ” 

Her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes confused. 

“ I asked you first,” she said, with just a flicker 
of a smile. 


THE BEST MAN 


267 


He caught the shimmer of light in her eyes, and 
came toward her eagerly, his own face all aglow 
now with a dawning understanding. 

“ Darling,” he said, “ I can go farther than you 
have asked. From the first minute my eyes rested 
upon your face under that mist of white veil I 
wished with all my heart that I might have known 
you before any other man had found and won you. 
iWhen you turned and looked at me with that deep 
sorrow in your eyes, you pledged me with every fibre 
of my being to fight for you. I was yours from that 
instant. And when your little hand was laid in 
mine, my heart went out in longing to have it stay 
in mine forever. I know now, as I did not under- 
stand then, that the real reason for my not doing 
something to make known my identity at that in- 
stant was not because I was afraid of any of the 
things that might happen, or any scene I might make, 
but because my heart was fighting for the right to 
keep what had been given me out of the unknown. 
You are my wife, by every law of heaven and earth, 
if your heart will but say yes. I love you, as I 
never knew a man could love, and yet if you do not 
want to stay with me I will set you free; but it is 
true that I should never be the same, for I am mar- 
ried to you in my heart, and always shall be. Dar- 
ling, look up and answer my question now.” 


^68 


THE BEST MAN 


He stood before her with outstretched arms, and t 
for answer she rose and came to him slowly, with 
downcast eyes. 

“ I do not want to be set free,” she said. 

Then gently, tenderly, he folded his arms about 
her, as if she were too precious to handle roughly, 
and laid his lips upon hers. 

It was the shrill, insistent clang of the telephone 
bell that broke in upon their bliss. For a moment 
Gordon let it ring, but its merciless clatter was not 
to be denied; so, drawing Celia close within his arm, 
he made her come with him to the ’phone. 

To his annoyance, the haughty voice of Miss 
Bentley answered him from the little black distance 
of the ’phone. 

His arm was about Celia, and she felt his whole 
body stiffen with formality. 

“ Oh, Miss Bentley! Good morning! Your 
message? Why no! Ah! Well, I have but just 
come in ” 

A pause during which Celia, panic-stricken, 
handed him the paper on which she had written 
Julia’s message. 

“ Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message. Yes, it is 
very kind of you — ” he murmured stiffly, “ but you 
will have to excuse me. No, really. It is utterly 
impossible ! I have another engagement — ” his arm 


THE BEST MAN 


269 


stole closer around Celia’s waist and caught her 
hand, holding it with a meaningful pressure. He 
smiled, with a grimace toward the telephone which 
gladdened her heart. “ Pardon me, I didn’t hear 
that,” he went on. . . . “ Oh, give up my en« 

gagement and come? . . . Not possibly!” 

His voice rang with a glad, decided force, and he 
held still closer the soft fingers in his hand. . . • 

“ Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about it. I 
certainly am not trying to be disagreeable. No, I 
could not come to-morrow night either. . . . 

I cannot make any plans for the next few days. 
. . . I may have to leave town again. . . . 
It is quite possible I may have to return to New 
iY ork. Yes, business has been very pressing. I hope 
you will excuse me. I am sorry to disappoint you. 
No, of course I didn’t do it on purpose. I shall have 
some pleasant news to tell you when I see you again 
— or — ” with a glance of deep love at Celia, “ per- 
haps I shall find means to let you know of it before 
I see you.” 

The color came and went in Celia’s cheeks. She 
understood what he meant and nestled closer to him. 

“ No, no, I could not tell it over the ’phone. No, 
it will keep. Good things will always keep if they 
are well cared for you know. No, really I can’t 


270 


THE BEST MAN 


And I’m very sorry to disappoint you to-night, but 
it can’t be helped. . . . Good-by.” 

He hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief. 

“ Who is Miss Bentley ? ” asked Celia, with nat- 
ural interest. She was pleased that he had not ad- 
dressed her as “ Julia.” 

“ Why, she is — a friend — I suppose you would 
call her. She has been taking possession of my time 
lately rather more than I really enjoyed. Still, she 
is a nice girl. You’ll like her, I think; but I hope 
you’ll never get too intimate. I shouldn’t like to 

have her continually around. She ” he paused 

and finished, laughing — “ she makes me tired.” 

“ I was afraid, from her tone when she ’phoned 
you, that she was a very dear friend — that she might 
be some one you cared for. There was a sort of 
proprietorship in her tone.” 

“ Yes, that’s the very word, proprietorship,” he 
laughed. “ I couldn’t care for her. I never did. 
I tried to consider her in that light one day, because 
I’d been told repeatedly that I ought to settle down, 
but the thought of having her with me always was 
— well — intolerable. The fact is, you reign supreme 
in a heart that has never loved another girl. I didn’t 
know there was such a thing as love like this. I 
knew I lacked something, but I didn’t know what it 
was. This is greater than all the gifts of life, this 


THE BEST MAN 


271 


gift of your love. And that it should come to me in 
this beautiful, unsought way seems too good to be 
true!” ■ 

He drew her to him once more and looked down 
into her lovely face, as if he could not drink enough 
of its sweetness. 

“And to think you are willing to be my wife! 
My wife ! ” and he folded her close again. 

A discreet tap on the door announced the arrival 
of the man Henry, and Gordon roused to the neces- 
sity of ordering lunch. 

He stepped to the door with a happy smile and 
held it open. 

“ Come in a minute, Henry,” he said. “ This 
is my wife. I hope you will henceforth take her 
wishes as your special charge, and do for her as you 
have done so^ faithfully for me.” 

The man’s eyes shone with pleasure as he bowed 
low before the gentle lady. 

“ I is very glad to heah it, sah, and I offers you 
my congratchumlations, sah, and de lady, too. She 
can’t find no bettah man in the whole United States 
dan Mars’ Gordon. I’s mighty glad you done got 
ma’ied, sah, an’ I hopes you bof have a mighty fine 
life.” 

The luncheon was served in Henry’s best style, 
and his dark face shone as he stepped noiselessly 


THE BEST MAN 


272 

about, putting silver and china and glass in place, and 
casting admiring glances at the lady, who stood 
holding the little miniature in her hand and asking 
questions with a gentle voice : 

“ Your mother, you say? How dear she is! 
And she died so long ago! You never knew her? 
Oh, how strange and sweet and pitiful to have a 
beautiful girl-mother like that ! ” 

She put out her hand to his in the shelter of the 
deep window, and they thought Henry did not see 
the look and touch that passed between them; but 
he discreetly averted his eyes and smiled benignly at 
the salt-cellars and the celery he was arranging. 
Then he hurried out to a florist’s next door and re- 
turned with a dozen white roses, which he arranged 
in a queer little crystal pitcher, one of the few articles 
belonging to his mother that Gordon possessed. It 
had never been used before, except to stand on the 
mantel. 

It was after they had finished their delightful 
luncheon, and Henry had cleared the table and left 
the room, that Gordon remarked : 

“ I wonder what has become of George Hayne. 
Do you suppose he means to try to make trouble ? ” 

Celia’s hands fluttered to her throat with a little 
gesture of fear. 

<r Oh! ” she said. “ I had forgotten him! How 


THE BEST MAN 


273 


terrible ! Pie will do something , of course. He will 
do everything. He will probably carry out all his 
threats. How could I have forgotten! Perhaps 
Mamma is now in great distress. What can we do ? 
What can I do? ” 

She looked up at him helplessly, and his heart 
bounded at the thought that she was his to protect 
as long as life should last, and that she already de- 
pended upon him. 

“ Don’t be frightened,” he soothed her. “ He 
cannot do anything very dreadful, and if he tries 
we’ll soon silence him. What he has written in those 
letters is blackmail. He is simply a big coward, who 
will run and hide as soon as he is exposed. He 
thought you did not understand law, and so took 
advantage of you. I’m sure I can silence him.” 

“ Oh, do you think so ? But Mamma ! Poor 
Mamma ! It will kill her ! And George will stop at 
nothing when he is crossed. I have known him too 
long. It will be terrible if he carries out his threat.” 
Tears were in her eyes, agony was in her face. 

“ We must telephone your mother at once and 
set her heart at rest. Then we can find out just what 
ought to be done,” said Gordon soothingly. “ It 
was unforgivably thoughtless in me not to have 

done it before.” 

18 


m 


THE BEST MAN 


Celia’s face was radiant at the thought of speak- 
ing to her mother. 

“ Oh, how beautiful ! Why didn’t I think of that 
before! What perfectly dear things telephones 
are! ” 

With one accord, they went to the telephone 
table. 

“ Shall you call them up, or shall I ? ” he asked. 

“ You call, and then I will speak to Mamma,” 
she said, her eyes shining with her joy in him. “ I 
want them to hear your voice again. They can’t 
help knowing you are all right when they hear your 
voice.” 

For that, he gave her a glance very much worth 
having. 

“ Just how do you account for the fact that you 
didn’t think I was all right yesterday afternoon? I 
have a very realizing sense that you didn’t. I used 
my voice to the best of my ability, but it did no good 
then.” 

“ Well, you see, that was different! There were 
those letters to be accounted for. Mamma and Jeff 
don’t know anything about the letters.” 

“ And what are you going to tell them now? ” 

She drew her brows down a minute and thought. 

" You’d better find out how much they already 
know,” he suggested. “ If this George Hayne hasn’t 


THE BEST MAN 


275 


turned up yet, perhaps you can wait until you can 
write, or we might be able to go up to-morrow and 
explain it ourselves.” 

“ Oh, could we ? How lovely ! ” 

“ I think we could,” said Gordon. “ I’m sure 
I can make it possible. Of course, you know a wed- 
ding journey isn’t exactly in the program of the 
Secret Service, but I might be able to work them for 
one. I surely can in a few days if this Holman busi- 
ness doesn’t hold me up. I may be needed for a 
witness. I’ll have to talk with the chief first.” 

“ Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then you call 
them up, and just say something pleasant — anything, 
you know — and then say I’ll speak to Mamma.” 

She gave him the number, and in a few minutes 
a voice from New York said, “ Hello! ” 

“ Hello ! ” called Gordon. “ Is this Mr. Jeffer- 
son Hathaway? . . . Well, this is your new 

brother-in-law. How are you all? . . . Your 

mother recovered from all the excitement and weari- 
ness? . . . That’s good. . . . What’s 
that? . . . You’ve been trying to ’phone us in 

Chicago? . . . But we’re not in Chicago. We 
changed our minds and came to Washington instead. 
. . . Yes, we’re in Washington — The Harris 

Apartments. We have been very selfish not to have 
communicated with you sooner. At least I have. 


276 


,THE BEST MAN 


Celia hasn’t had any choice in the matter. I’ve kept 
her so busy. Yes, she’s very well, and seems to look 
happy. She wants to speak for herself. I’ll try to 
arrange to bring her up to-morrow for a little visit. 
I want to see you too. We’ve a lot of things to ex- 
plain to you. . . . Here is Celia. She wants to 

speak to you.” 

Celia, her eyes shining, her lips quivering with 
suppressed excitement, took the receiver. 

“ Oh, Jeff dear, it’s good to hear your voice,” she 
said. “ Is everything all right? Yes, I’ve been hav- 
ing a perfectly beautiful time, and I’ve something 
fine to tell you. All those nice things you said to me 
just before you got off the train are true. Yes, he’s 
just as nice as you said, and a great deal nicer be- 
sides. Oh, yes, I’m very happy, and I want to speak 
to Mamma please. Jeff, is she all right? Is she 
perfectly well, and not fretting a bit? You know 
you promised to tell me. What’s that ? She thought 
I looked sad? Well, I did but that’s all gone now. 
Everything is perfectly beautiful. Tell mother to 
come to the ’phone please — I want to make her un- 
derstand.” 

“ I’m going to tell her, dear,” she whispered, 
looking up at Gordon. “ I’m afraid George will get 
there before we do and make her worry.” 

For answer he stooped and kissed her, his arm 


THE BEST MAN 


277 


encircling her and drawing her close. “ Whatever 
you think best, dearest,” he whispered back. 

“ Is that you, Mamma? ” With a happy smile she 
turned back to the 'phone. “ Dear Mamma ! Yes, I'm 
all safe and happy, and I’m so sorry you have wor- 
ried. We won’t let you do it again. But listen; 
I've something to tell you, a surprise — Mamma, I 
did not marry George Hayne at all. No, I say I did 
not marry George Hayne at all. George Hayne is a 
wicked man. I can’t tell you about it over the 'phone 
but that was why I looked sad. Yes, I was married 
all right, but not to George. He's oh, so different, 
Mother you can’t think. He's right here beside me 
now, and Mother, he is just as dear — you’d be very 
happy about him if you could see him. What did 
you say? Didn’t I mean to marry George? Why 
Mother, I never wanted to. I was awfully unhappy 
about it, and I knew I made you feel so too, though 
I tried not to. But I’ll explain all about it. You’ll 
be perfectly satisfied when you know all about it. 
. . . No, there’s nothing whatever for you to 

worry about. Everything is right now and life looks 
more beautiful to me than it ever did before. What's 
his name? Oh;” she looked up at Gordon with a 
funny little expression of dismay. She had forgot- 
ten and he whispered it in her ear. 

“ Cyril—” 


278 


THE BEST MAN 


“ It’s Cyril, Mother! Isn’t that a pretty name? 
Which name? Oh, the first name of course. The 
last name ? ” 

“ Gordon — ” he supplied in her ear again. 

“ Cyril Gordon, Mother,” she said, giggling in 
spite of herself at her strange predicament. . . . 

“ Yes, Mother. I am very, very happy. I couldn’t 
be happier unless I had you and Jeff, too, and ” — 
she paused, hesitating at the unaccustomed name — 
“ and Cyril says we’re coming to visit you to-mor- 
row. We’ll come up and see you and explain every- 
thing. And you’re not to worry about George 
Hayne if he comes. Just let Jeff put him off by tell- 
ing him you have sent for me, or something of the 
sort, and don’t pay any attention to what he says. 
What? You say he did come? How strange — and 
he hasn’t been back ? I’m so thankful. He is dread- 
ful. Oh, Mother, you don’t know what I’ve es- 
caped! And Cyril is good and dear. What? You 
want to speak to him ? All right. He’s right here. 
Good-by, Mother, dear, till to-morrow. And you’ll 
promise not to worry about anything? All right. 
Here is — Cyril.” 

Gordon took the receiver. 

“ Mother, I’m taking good care of her, just as I 
promised, and I’m going to bring her for a flying 
visit up to see you to-morrow. Yes, I’ll take good 


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279 


care of her. She is very dear to me. The best thing 
that ever came into my life.” 

Then a mother’s blessing came thrilling over the 
wires, and touched the handsome, manly face with 
tenderness. 

“ Thank you,” he said. “ I shall try always to 
make you glad you said those words.” 

They returned to looking in each other’s eyes, 
after the receiver was hung up, as if they had been 
parted a long time. It seemed somehow as if their 
joy must be greater than any other married couple, 
because they had all their courting yet to do. It was 
beautiful to think of what was before them. 

There was so much on both sides to be told ; and 
to be told over again because only half had been told ; 
and there were so many hopes and experiences to be 
exchanged ; so many opinions to compare, and to re- 
joice over because they were alike on many essentials. 
Then there were the rooms to be gone through, and 
Gordon’s pictures and favorite books to look at 
and talk about, and plans for the future to be touched 
upon — just barely touched upon. 

The apartment would do until they could look 
about and get a house, Gordon said, his heart swell- 
ing with the proud thought that at last he would have 
a real home, like his other married friends, with a 
real princess to preside over it. 


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Then Celia had to tell all about the horror of the 
last three months, with the unpleasant shadows of 
the preceding years back of it. She told this in the 
dusk of evening, before Henry had come in to light 
up, and before they had realized that it was almost 
dinner-time. She told it with her face hidden on her 
husband’s shoulder, and his arms close about her, 
to give her comfort at each revelation of the story. 
They tried also to plan what to do about George 
Hayne; and then there was the whole story of Gor- 
don’s journey and commission from the time the 
old chief had called him into the office until he came 
to stand beside her at the church altar and they were 
married. It was told in careful detail with all the 
comical, exasperating and pitiful incidents of white 
dog and little newsboy ; but the strangest part about 
it all was that Gordon never said one word about 
Julia Bentley and her imaginary presence with him 
that first day, and he never even knew that he had 
left out an important detail. 

Celia laughed over the white dog and declared 
they must bring him home to live with them ; and she 
cried over the story of the brave little newsboy and 
was eager to visit him in New York, promising her- 
self all sorts of pleasure in taking him gifts and per- 
manently bettering his condition ; and it was in this 
way that Gordon incidentally learned that his wife 


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281 


had a fortune in her own right, a fact that for a 
time gave him great uneasiness of mind until she had 
soothed him and laughed at him for an hour or 
more ; for Gordon was an independent creature and 
had ideas about supporting his wife by his own toil. 
Besides it seemed an unfair advantage to have taken 
a wife and a fortune as it were unaware. 

But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled her, and she 
soon made him see that it had always been a mere 
incident in her scheme of living; comfortable and 
pleasant incident to be sure, but still an incident to 
be kept always in the background, and never for a 
moment to be a cause for self-gratulation or pride. 

Gordon found himself dreading the explanation 
that would have to come when he reached New York 
and faced his wife’s mother and brother. Celia had 
accepted his explanations, because, somehow by the 
beautiful ways of the spirit, her soul had found and 
believed in his soul before the truth was made known 
to her, but would her mother and brother be able 
also to believe ? And he fell to planning with Celia 
just how he should tell the story; and this led to his 
bringing out a number of letters and papers that 
would be worth while showing as credentials, and 
every step of the way, as Celia got glimpse after 
glimpse into his past, her face shone with joy and 
her heart leaped with the assurance that her lot had 


282 


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been cast in goodly places, for she perceived not only 
that this man was honored and respected in high 
places, but that his early life had been peculiarly 
pure and true. 

The strange loneliness that had surrounded his 
young manhood seemed suddenly to have broken 
ahead of him, and to have opened out into the glory 
of the companionship of one peculiarly fitted to fill 
the need of his life. Thus they looked into one an- 
other’s eyes reading their life-joy, and entered into 
the beautiful miracle of acquaintanceship. 


CHAPTER XVII 


The next morning quite early the ’phone called 
Gordon to the office. The chief’s secretary said the 
matter was urgent. 

He hurried away leaving Celia somewhat 
anxious lest their plans for going to New York that 
day could not be carried out, but she made up her 
mind not to fret even if the trip had to be put off a 
little, and solaced herself with a short visit with her 
mother over the telephone. 

Gordon entered his chief’s office a trifle anx- 
iously, for he felt that in justice to his wife he ought 
to take her right back to New York and get matters 
there adjusted; but he feared that there would be 
business to hold him at home until the Holman 
matter was settled. 

The chief greeted him affably and bade him sit 
down. 

“ I am sorry to have called you up so early,” he 
said, “but we needed you. The fact is, they’ve 
arrested Holman and five other men, and you are in 
immediate demand to identify them. Would it be 
asking too much of an already overworked man to 
send you back to New York to-day? ” 

Gordon almost sprang from his seat in pleasure. 


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“ It just exactly fits in with my plans, or, rather, 
my wishes,” he said, smiling. “ There are several 
matters of my own that I would like to attend to in 
New York and for which of course I did not have 
time.” 

He paused and looked at his chief, half hesi- 
tating, marvelling that the way had so miraculously 
opened for him to keep silence a little longer on the 
subject of his marriage. Perhaps the chief need 
never be told that the marriage ceremony took place 
on the day of the Holman dinner. 

“ That is good,” said the chief, smiling. “ You 
certainly have earned the right to attend to your own 
affairs. Then we need not feel so bad at having to 
send you back. Can you go on the afternoon train? 
Good! Then let us hear your account of your trip 
briefly, to see if there are any points we didn’t notice 
yesterday. But first just step here a moment. I 
have something to show you.” 

He flung open the door to the next office. 

“ You knew that Ferry had left the Department 
on account of his ill-health ? I have taken the liberty 
of having your things moved in here. This will 
hereafter be your headquarters, and you will be next 
to me in the Department.” 

Gordon turned in amazement and gazed at the 
kindly old face. Promotion he had hoped for, but 


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285 


such promotion, right over the heads of his elders 
and superiors, he had never dreamed of receiving. 
He could have taken the chief in his arms. 

“ Pooh ! Pooh ! ” said the chief. “ You deserve 
it, you deserve it ! ” when Gordon tried to blunder 
out some words of appreciation. Then, as if to cap 
the climax, he added: 

“ And, by the way, you know some one has got 
to run across the water to look after that Stanhope 
matter. That will fall to you, I’m afraid. Sorry 
to keep you trotting around the globe, but perhaps 
you’ll like to make a little vacation of it. The De- 
partment’ll give you some time if you want it. Oh, 
don’t thank me! It’s simply the reward of doing 
your duty, to have more duties given you, and higher 
ones. You have done well, young man. I have here 
all the papers in the Stanhope case, and full direc- 
tions written out, and then if you can plan for it you 
needn’t return, unless it suits your pleasure. You 
understand the matter as fully as I do already. And 
now for business. Let’s hurry through. There are 
one or two little matters we must talk over and I 
know you will want to hurry back and get ready for 
your journey.” And so after all the account of 
Gordon’s extraordinary escape and eventful jour- 
ney home became by reason of its hasty repetition a 


286 


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most prosaic story composed of the bare facts and 
not all of those. 

At parting the chief pressed Gordon’s hand with 
heartiness and ushered him out into the hall, with 
the same brusque manner he used to close all busi- 
ness interviews, and Gordon found himself hurrying 
through the familiar halls in a daze of happiness, the 
secret of his unexpected marriage still his own — and 
hers. 

Celia was watching at the window when his key 
clicked in the lock and he let himself into the apart- 
ment his face alight with the joy of meeting her 
again after the brief absence. She turned in a quiver 
of pleasure at his coming. 

“ Well, get ready,” he said joyfully. “ We are 
ordered off to New York on the afternoon train, 
with a wedding trip to Europe into the bargain ; and 
I’m promoted to the next place to the chief. What 
do you think of that for a morning’s surprise? ” 

He tossed up his hat like a boy, came over to 
where she stood, and stooping laid reverent lips upon 
her brow and eyes. 

“ Oh, beautiful ! lovely ! ” cried Celia, ecstatic- 
ally, “ come sit down on the couch and tell me about 
it. We can work faster afterward if we get it off 
our minds. Was your chief very much shocked that 


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287 


you were married without his permission or knowl- 
edge ? ” 

“ Why, that was the best of all. I didn’t have 
to tell him I was married. And he is not to know 
until just as I sail. He need never know how it all 
i happened. It isn’t his business and it would be hard 
to explain. No one need ever know except your 
mother and brother unless you wish them to, dear.” 

“ Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said Celia, de- 
lightedly. “ I’ve been worrying about that a little, — * 
what people would think of us, — for of course we 
couldn’t possibly explain it all out as it is to us. 
They would always be watching us to see if we 
really cared for each other; and suspecting that we 
didn’t, and it would be horrid. I think it is our own 
precious secret, and nobody but mamma and Jeff 
have a right to know, don’t you ? ” 

“ I certainly do, and I was casting about in my 
mind as I went into the office how I could manage 
not to tell the chief, when what did he do but spring 
a proposition on me to go at once to New York and 
identify those men. He apologized tremendously 
for having to send me right back again, but said it 
was necessary. I told him it just suited me for I 
had affairs of my own that I had not had time to 
attend to when I was there, and would be glad to 
go back and see to them. That let me out on the 


288 


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wedding question for it would be only necessary to 
tell him I was married when I got back. He would 
never ask when.” 

“ But the announcements/' said Celia catching 
her breath laughingly, “ I never thought of that. 
We'll just have to have some kind of announcements 
or my friends will not understand about my new 
name ; and we'll have to send him one, won’t we ? ” 

“ Why, I don’t know. Couldn’t we get along 
without announcements? You can explain to your 
intimate friends, and the others won’t ever remem- 
ber the name after a few months — we’ll not be likely 
to meet many of them right away. I’ll write to my 
chief and tell him informally leaving out the date 
entirely. He won’t miss it If we have announce- 
ments at all we needn’t send him one. He wouldn’t 
be likely ever to see one any other way, or to notice 
the date. I think we can maiiage that matter. We’ll 
talk it over with your — ” he hesitated and then smil- 
ing tenderly added, “ we’ll talk it over with mother . 
How good it sounds to say that. I never knew my 
mother you know.” 

Celia nestled her hands in his and murmured, 
“ Oh, I am so happy, — so happy ! But I don’t un- 
derstand how you got a wedding trip without telling 
your chief about our marriage.” 

“ Easy as anything. He asked me if I would 


THE BEST MAN 


mind running across the water to attend to a matter 
for the service and said I might have extra time 
while there for a vacation. He never suspects that 
vacation is to be used as a wedding trip. I’ll write 
him, or ’phone him the night we leave New York. I 
may have to stay in the city two or three days to 
get this Holman matter settled, and then we can be 
off. In the meantime you can spend the time recon- 
ciling your mother to her new son. Do you think 
we’ll have a very hard time explaining matters to 
her ? ” 

“ Not a bit,” said Celia,, gaily. “ She never did 
like George. It was the only thing we ever dis- 
agreed about, my marrying him. She suspected all 
the time I wasn’t happy and couldn’t understand why 
I insisted on marrying him when I hadn’t seen him 
for ten years. She begged me to wait until he had 
been back in the country for a year or two, but he 
would not hear to such a thing and threatened to 
carry out his worst at once.” 

Gordon’s heart suddenly contracted with right- 
eous wrath over the cowardliness of the man who 
sought to gain his own ends by intimidating a 
woman, — and this woman, so dear, so beautiful, so 
lovely in her nature. It seemed the man’s heart 
must indeed be black to have done what he did. He 
mentally resolved to search him out and bring 
19 


290 


THE BEST MAN 


him to justice as soon as he reached New York. It 
puzzled him to understand how easily he seemed to 
have abandoned his purposes. Perhaps after all he 
was more of a coward than they thought, and had 
not dared to remain in the country when he found 
that Celia had braved his wrath and married another 
man. He would find out about him and set the girl’s 
heart at rest just as soon as possible, that any 
embarrassment at some future time might be avoided. 
Gordon stooped and kissed his wife again, a caress 
that seemed to promise all reparation for the past. 

But it suddenly occurred to the two that trains 
did not wait for lovers’ long loitering, and with one 
accord they went to work. Celia of course had very 
little preparation to make. Her trunk was probably 
in Chicago and would need to be wired for. Gordon 
attended to that the first thing, looking up the num- 
ber of the check and ordering it back to New York 
by telegraph. Turning from the telephone he rang 
for the man and asked Celia to give the order for 
lunch while he got together some things that he 
must take with him. A stay of several weeks would 
necessitate a little more baggage than he had taken 
to New York. 

He went into the bedroom and began pulling out 
things to pack but when Celia turned from giving 
her directions she found him standing in the bedroom 



THE BEST MAN 


m 


* Dorway with an old-fashioned velvet jewel case in 
his hand which he had just taken from the little 
ife in his room. His face wore a wonderful tender 
' ght as if he had just discovered something precious. 

“ Dear,” he said, “ I wonder if you will care for 
these. They were mother’s. Perhaps this ring will 
o until I can buy you a new one. See if it will fit 
you. It was my mother’s.” 

He held out a ring containing a diamond of 
iiWilar purity and brilliance in quaint old-fash- 
oned setting. 

Celia put out her hand with its wedding ring, the 
ring that he had put upon her finger at the altar, and 
he slipped the other jewelled one above it. It fitted 
perfectly. 

“ It is a beauty,” breathed Celia, holding out her 
hand to admire it, “ and I would far rather have it 
than a new one. Your dear little mother ! ” 

“ There’s not much else here but a little string of 
pearls and a pin or two. I have always kept then? 
near me. Somehow they seemed like a link between 
me and mother. I was keeping them for — ” he hesi- 
tated and then giving her a rare smile he finished: 

“ I was keeping them for you.” 

Her answering look was eloquent, and needed no 
words which was well, for Henry appeared at that 
moment to serve luncheon and remind his master 


292 


THE BEST MAN 


that his train left in a little over two hours. There 
was no further time for sentiment. 

And yet, these two, it seemed, could not be prac- 
tical that day. They idled over their luncheon and 
dawdled over their packing, stopping to look at this 
and that picture or bit of bric-a-brac that Gordon 
had picked up in some of his travels; and Henry 
finally had to take things in his own hands, pack 
them off and send their baggage after them. Henry 
was a capable man and rejoiced to see the devotion 
of his master and his new mistress, but he had a 
practical head and knew where his part came in. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


The journey back to New York seemed all too 
brief for the two whose lives had just been blended 
so unexpectedly, and every mile was filled with a 
new and sweet discovery of delight in one another; 
and then, when they reached the city they rushed in 
on Mrs. Hathaway and the eager young Jeff like 
two children who had so much to tell they did not 
know where to begin. 

Mrs. Hathaway settled the matter by insisting 
on their going to dinner immediately and leaving 
all explanations until afterward; and with the ser- 
vants present of course there was little that could 
be said about the matter that each one had most at 
heart. But there was a spirit of deep happiness in 
the atmosphere and one couldn’t possibly entertain 
any fears under the influence of the radiant smiles 
that passed between mother and daughter, husband 
and wife, brother and sister. 

As soon as the meal was concluded the mother 
led them up to her private sitting room, and closing 
the door she stood facing them all as half breathless 
with the excitement of the moment they stood in a 
row before her: 

“ My three dear children ! ” she murmured. 

293 


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Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and his heart thrilled with 
the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped up 
to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over 
to the couch and made him sit beside her, while the 
( brother and sister sat down together close by. 

“ Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliber- 
ately, her eyes resting approvingly upon his face, 
“ you may tell me your story. I see my girl has lost 
both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could 
tell it connectedly.” 

And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this 
Gordon set about his task of winning a mother, and 
incidentally an eager-eyed young brother who was 
more than half committed to his cause already. 

Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband 
took out his credentials, and began his explanation. 

“ First, I must tell you who I am, and these 
papers will do it better than I could. Will you look 
at them, please? ” 

He handed her a few letters and papers. 

“ These papers on the top show the rank and 
position that my father and my grandfather held 
with the government and in the army. This is a 
letter from the president to my father congratu- 
lating him on his approaching marriage with my 
mother. That paper contains my mother’s family 
tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of 


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295 


the honor in which my mother’s family was held in 
Washington and in Virginia, her old home. I know 
these matters are not of much moment, and say 
nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they 
are things you would have been likely to know about 
my family if you had known me all my life; and at 
least they will tell you that my family was respect- 
able. ,, 

Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and 
suddenly looked up exclaiming : “ My dear ! My 
father knew your grandfather. I think I saw him 
once when he came to our home in New York. It 
was years ago and I was a young girl, but I remem- 
ber he was a fine looking man with keen dark eyes, 
and a heavy head of iron gray hair.” 

She looked at Gordon keenly. 

" I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was 
long ago of course.” 

“ They used to say I looked like him. I do not 
remember him. He died when I was very young.” 

The mother looked up with a pleasant smile. 

“ Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid 
a gentle hand on his. 

Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush 
spreading over his face. 

“ There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “ I’ve 
always tried to live a straight true life, and I’ve 


296 


THE BEST MAN 


never been in love with any girl before — ” he flashed 
a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia. 

“ I was left alone in the world when quite young 
and have lived around in boarding-schools and col- 
lege. I’m a graduate of Harvard and I’ve travelled 
a little. There was some money left from my 
father’s estate, not much. I’m not rich. I’m a 
Secret Service man, and I love my work. I get a 
good salary and was this morning promoted to the 
position next in rank to my chief, so that now I shall 
have still more money. I shall be able to make your 
daughter comfortable and give her some of the 
luxuries, if not all, to which she has been accus- 
tomed.” 

“ My dear boy, that part is not what I am anx- 
ious about — •” interrupted the mother. 

“ I know,” said Gordon, “ but it is a detail you 
have a right to be told. I understand that you care 
far more what I am than how much money I can 
make, and I promise you I am going to try to be all 
that you would want your daughter’s husband to be. 
Perhaps the best thing I can say for myself is that 
I love her better than my life, and I mean to make 
her happiness the dearest thing in life to me.” 

The mother’s look of deep understanding an- 
swered him more eloquently than words could have 
done, and after a moment she spoke again. 


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291 


“But I do not understand how you could have 
known one another and I never have heard of you. 
Celia is not good at keeping things from her mother, 
though the last three months she has had a sadness 
that I could not fathom, and was forced to lay to 
her natural dread of leaving home. She seemed so 
insistent upon having this marriage just as George 
planned it — and I was so afraid she would regret 
not waiting. How could you have known one an- 
other all this time and she never talked to me about 
it, and why did George Hayne have any part what- 
ever in it if you two loved one another? Just how 
long have you known each other any way? Did it 
begin when you visited in Washington last spring, 
Celia? ” 

With dancing eyes Celia shook her head. 

“ No, Mamma. If I had met him then I’m sure 
George Hayne would never have had anything to 
do with the matter, for Cyril would have known how 
to help me out of my difficulty.” 

“ I shall have to tell you the whole story from 
my standpoint, and from the beginning,” said Gor- 
don, dreading now that the crisis was upon him, 
what the outcome would be. “ I have wanted you 
to know who and what I was before you knew the 
story, that you might judge me as kindly as possi- 
ble, and know that however I may have been ter 


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298 

blame in the matter it was through no intention of 
mine. My story may sound rather impossible. I 
know it will seem improbable, but it is neverthe- 
less true, everything that I have to tell. May I hope 
to be believed ? ” 

“ I think you may,” answered the mother search- 
ing his face anxiously. “ Those eyes ci yours are 
not lying eyes.” 

“ Thank you,” he said simply, and then gather- 
ing all his courage he plunged into his story. 

Mrs. Hathaway was watching him with search- 
ing interest. Jeff had drawn his chair up close and 
could scarcely restrain his excitement, and when 
Gordon told of his commission he burst forth ex- 
plosively : 

“ Gee ! But that was a great stunt ! I’d have 
liked to have been along with you! You must be 
simply great to be trusted with a thing like that ! ” 

But his mother gently reproved him : 

“ Hush, my son, let us hear the story.” 

Celia sat quietly watching her husband with 
pride, two bright spots of color on her cheeks, and 
her hands clasping each other tightly. She was 
hearing many details now that were new to her. 
Once more, when Gordon mentioned the dinner at 
Holman’s Jeff interrupted with: 

“ Holman! Holman! Not J. P.? Why of 


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299 


course — we know him ! Celia was one of his 
daughter’s bridesmaids last spring! The old lynx! 
I always thought he was crooked! People hint a 
lot of things about him — ” 

4i Jeff, dear, let us hear the story,” again insisted 
his mother, and the story continued. 

Gordon had been looking down as he talked. He 
dreaded to see their faces as the truth should dawn 
upon them, but when he had told all he lifted honest 
eyes to the white- faced mother and pleaded with her : 

“ Indeed, indeed, I hope you will believe me, 
that not until they laid your daughter’s hand in mine 
did I know that I was supposed to be the bride- 
groom. I thought all the time her brother was the 
bridegroom. If I had not been so distraught, and 
trying so hard to think how to escape, I suppose I 
would have noticed that I was standing next to her, 
and that everything was peculiar about the whole 
matter, but I didn’t. And then when I suddenly 
knew that she and I were being married, what should 
I have done ? Do you think I ought to have stopped 
the ceremony then and there and made a scene before 
all those people? What was the right thing to do? 
Suppose my commission had been entirely out of 
the question, and I had had no duty toward the gov- 
ernment to keep entirely quiet about myself, do you 
think I ought to have made a scene? Would you 


300 


THE BEST MAN 


have wanted me to for your daughter’s sake? Tell 
me please,” he insisted, gently. 

And while she hesitated he added : 

“ I did some pretty hard thinking during that 
first quarter of a second that I realized what was 
happening, and I tell you honestly I didn’t know 
what was the right thing to do. It seemed awful 
for her sake to make a scene, and to tell you the 
truth I worshipped her from the moment my eyes 
rested upon her. There was something sad and ap- 
pealing as she looked at me that seemed to pledge 
my very life to save her from trouble. Tell me, do 
you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony then 
at the first moment of my realization that I was 
being married ? ” 

The mother’s face had softened as she watched 
him and listened to his tender words about Celia 
and now she answered gently: 

“ I am not sure — perhaps not ! It was a very 
grave question to face. I don’t know that I can 
blame you for doing nothing. It would have been 
terrible for her and us and everybody and have made 
it all so public. Oh, I think you did right not to do 
anything publicly — perhaps — and yet — it is terrible 
to me to think you have been forced to marry my 
daughter in that way.” 

“ Please do not say forced, — Mother — ” said 


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301 


Gordon laying both hands earnestly upon hers and 
looking into her eyes, “ I tell you one thing that held 
me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly 
desired that what I was passing through might be 
real and lasting. I have never seen one like her 
before. I know that if the mistake had been righted 
and she had passed out of my life I should never 
have felt the same again. I am glad, glad with all 
my heart that she is mine, and — Mother! — I think 
she is glad too ! ” 

The mother turned toward her daughter, and 
Celia with starry eyes came and knelt before them, 
and laid her hands in the hands of her husband, say- 
ing with ringing voice : 

“ Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I 
ever was before in my life. ,, 

And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about 
her, her face against his shoulder, and both her hands 
clasped in his, she told her mother about the tor- 
tures that George Hayne had put her through, until 
the mother turned white with horror at what her 
beloved and cherished child had been enduring, and 
the brother got up and stormed across the floor, 
vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor 
George Hayne. 

Then after the mother had given her blessing to 
the two, and Jeff had added an original one of his 


302 


THE BEST MAN 


own, there was the whole story of the eventful wed- 
ding trip to tell, which they both told by solos and 
choruses until the hour grew alarmingly late and 
the mother suddenly sent them all off to bed. 

The next few days were both busy and happy 
ones for the two. They went to the hospital and 
gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit 
and toys and many promises ; and they brought home 
a happy white dog from his boarding place whom 
Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a trying hour 
or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel 
who had stolen the cipher message ; and the thick-set 
man glared at him from a cell window as he passed 
along the corridor of the prison whither he had gone 
in search of George Hayne. 

Gordon in his search for the lost bridegroom, 
whom for many reasons he desired to find as soon as 
possible, had asked the help of one of the men at 
work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain 
George Hayne who needed very much to be brought 
to justice. 

“ Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” de- 
clared the man with a smile. “ He’s safely landed 
in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly 
as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose 
name he forged several years ago. It was trust 
money of a big corporation and the man died in his 


THE BEST MAN 


303 


place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the 
real culprit punished. ,, 

And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer, 
went to the prison to talk with George Hayne, and 
that miserable man found no excuse for his sins 
when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not 
let the man know who he was, and merely made it 
understood that Celia was married, and that if he 
attempted to make her any further trouble the whole 
thing would be exposed and he would have to answer 
a grave charge of blackmail. 

The days passed rapidly, and at last the New 
iYork matter for which Gordon’s presence was 
needed was finished, and he was free to sail away 
with his bride. On the morning of their departure 
Gordon’s voice rang out over the miles of telephone 
wires to his old chief in Washington : “ I am mar- 
ried and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t 
you want to congratulate me ? ” And the old chief’s 
gruff voice sounded back : 

“ Good work, old man ! Congratulations for 
you both. She may or may not be the best girl in 
all the world ; I haven’t had a chance to see yet ; but 
she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got the best man I know. 
Tell her that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad 
she’s going with you. It won’t be so lonesome.” 

Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as 


304 


THE BEST MAN 


they sailed straight into the sunshine of a new and 
beautiful life together. 

“ Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer 
rug more comfortably about her, “ has it occurred 
to you that you are probably the only bride who ever 
married the best man at her wedding ? ” 

Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute 
replied mischievously : 

“ I suppose every bride thinks her husband is the 
best man.” 


JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD’S 

STORIES OF ADVENTURE 

MayT be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grossat & Dunlap’s list. 

THE RIVER’S END ' 

A story of the Royal Mounted Police. 

THE GOLDEN SNARE 
Thrilling adventures in the Far Northland. 

NOMADS OF THE NORTH 
The story of a bear-cub and a dog. 

KAZAN 

The tale of a “quarter-strain wolf and three-quarters husky” torn 
between the call of the human and his wild mate. 

BAREE, SON OF KAZAN 

The story of the son of the blind Grey Wolf and the gallant part 
he played in the lives of a man and a woman. 

THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM 

The story of the King of Beaver Island, a Mormon colony, and his 
battle with Captain Plum. 

THE DANGER TRAIL 

A tale of love, Indian vengeance, and a mystery of the North. 
THE HUNTED WOMAN 
A tale of a great fight in the “ valley of gold ” for a woman. 

THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH 

The story of Fort o’ God, where the wild flavor of the wilderness 
is blended with the courtly atmosphere of France. 

THE GRIZZLY KING 
The story of Thor, the big grizzly. 

ISOBEL 

A love story of the Far North. 

THE WOLF HUNTERS 
A thrilling tale of adventure in the Canadian wilderness. 

THE GOLD HUNTERS 
The story of adventure in the Hudson Bay wilds. 

THE COURAGE OF MARGE O’DOONE 
Filled with exciting incidents in the land of strong men and women. 
BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY 
A thrilling story of the Far North. The great Photoplay was made 
from this book. 

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York 


^ _ __ _ 

THE NOVELS OF < 

GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ | 

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list. 


THE BEST MAN 

Through a strange series of adventures a young man finds 
himself propelled up the aisle of a church and married to ? 
strange girl. 

A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS 

On her way West the heroine steps off by mistake at a lonely 
watertank into a maze of thrilling events. 

THE ENCHANTED BARN 

■ ' ' ' ■ ' ■■ — - 

Every member of the family will enjoy this spirited chronicle 
of a young girl' s resourcefulness and pluck, and the secret of 
the ‘ * enchanted k ’ barn. 

THE WITNESS < 

The fascinating story of the enormous change an incident 
wrought in a man’s life. ’ 

MARCIA SCHUYLER 

A picture of ideal girlhood set in the time of full skirts and 
poke bonnets. 

LO, MICHAEL 1 

A story of unfailing appeal to all who love and understand boys. 

THE MAN OF THE DESERT 

An intensely moving love story of a man of the desert and a 
girl of the East pictured against the background of the Far West. 

PHOEBE DEANE 

A tense and charming love story, told with a grace and a fer® 
vor with which only Mrs. Lutz could tell it. 

DAWN OF THE MORNING 

A romance of the last century with all of its old-fashioned 
charm. A companion volume to “Marcia Schuyler” and 
“Phoebe Deane.” 


Ask f 0T Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction 


Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York 


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